Down and Out
by Emmaz1098
Summary: When Neal, Diana, and Jones are kidnapped by an overly hyper genius psychopath, hell bent on destruction. Peter has to find them before it is to late and help save other lives at the same time. What is his real motive? And can everyone get out alive? Diana and Jones whump! Plus extra Neal whump!
1. The van

**Chap 1: The van**

**AN: this is my first fanfic and I am really nervous! heres the first chap hope you like it! R&R! I would say I dont own White Collar but if you are reading this you probably already know this! Im also sorry for spelling and grammatical errors there kind of my weakness :(**

Neal couldn't sleep after hours of unmerciful tossing and turning him finally gave in and groggily walked over to the many case files flung across his kitchen table. He sighed heavily as he sat down opening the first file and looking at the content, not really thinking about what he was reading. Plopping his current file on the table, Neal went to the bath room and took a long hot shower to relax his mind. After his shower he got dressed and waited for Peter to pick him up. Neal was not in a good mood.

As Peter drove up to June's house he was surprised to see Neal already outside waiting for him. Usually he had to honk the horn a few times to get the conman's skinny ass out the door. The thought was interrupted as Neal got into the car and slammed the door shut.

"Morning." Said peter in a cheery voice that he could clearly see annoyed Neal.

"Good morning Peter." Neal said in an annoyed tone.

"Jeez looks like someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

"Ha!" Laughed Neal as he flashed a small smile, "that would have to imply I slept!"

"Rough night?" Asked Peter.

"Yah… um… what is this case about?" Neal said distracting Peter from the subject of him.

"We have a mysterious forger; we only know his initials SR. He is suspected in many are forgeries and we just got a tip he is going to be trying to sell a forgery of Starry night by van Gosh soon so where keeping tabs on him suspected primary hideout."

"OHNO, that doesn't mean…"

"Yep! We are spending time in the van!" Exclaimed Peter.

Neal slammed his head against the seat and closed his eyes. "This is going to be a long day." Neal muttered.

"If it makes you feel better this should be very fun day for me!" Peter chuckled

"Humor me Peter", Said Neal cracking one eye open ever so slightly, "what in the van can you remotely call fun?"

"Watching you squirm like you want to crawl out of your skin." Retorted Peter.

"Not cool Peter, Laughed Neal, not cool at all."

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By the time Neal and Peter reached the van Diana and Jones where already there and bored out of their minds.

"So what exiting activity is the van gang up to today? Asked Neal as he bounced into the van with a smile stretched across his face. All indications of his previous bad mood diminished and now replaced with an undeniable urge to annoy them all. Hey, if they were going to have him in the van, they would have to deal with him being in the van.

"Caffery… if you don't wipe that annoying smirk off your face ill have to do it for you." Said Diana in a bored tone.

"Well you're not in a good mood." Murdered Neal well shooting Jones a dirty look, as the Jr. Agent tried desperately to stifle his laughter.

"I have just the thing to fix that!" said Peter as he closed the door to the van whale balancing four cups of coffee.

"Peter you're a life saver!" Exclaimed Diana as she leaned across the van and snatched up the cup Neal was reaching for, then took a big sip. "Yum!" She announced.

"That was my cup!" Neal wined

"You could have it back if you like." Joked Diana taking another sip and cocking her head to the side sweetly.

"Gladly," said Neal and grabbed the cup from her hands with lightning fast speed, then took a long swig.

"I will k-"Diana was cut off short by an ear piercing noise of a gunshot.

Peter jumped out of his seat and drew his gun "you all stay here don't move! I will be back in five minutes if not call for back up!" He yelled as he burst out the van door.

"Well," said Diana, "that gives me just enough time to get revenge for my coffee."

"Hey violence in not the ans-"Neal faltered as Diana suddenly collapsed on the floor "Diana!" Screamed Neal," Jones help me out!" he looked desperately to the other agent but in dismay saw Jones slouched in his chair head lolling to the side unconscious.

Neal coughed as plumes of gas started to fill the van he desperately tried to get to the door but his brain was too confused to find it. Just then the door to the van burst open and a feeling of relief washed over him.

It must be Peter coming to save us! He thought. But all his hope diminished as he turned to the door and saw two men in gas masks. The men stood shocked to see that Neal was still conscious. Quickly one of the men lunged forward and tried to grab Neal but Neal was ready and swung his arm making contact with the mans face with his fist. Then swung his leg out and kicked the other man in the knee.

"Ahhhhh!" the man bellowed as Neal hit his Knee.

Neal's victory was short lived as the first man came at him and grabbed him around the throat; he swung Neal's head around and smashed it into a nearby monitor. Pain shot through Neal's head and his vision started to dim from the pain and the gas welling around him. He lay there limp as to his horror the second man took out a gun and placed it against Neal's shoulder. Neal didn't have time to close his eyes before he heard the shot. He felt the blood pour out of his head and shoulder. His eyes started to close and he slipped into welcoming oblivion as he felt himself being dragged from the van.

**I know this was short! but I promise I will type the next one as fast as my brain will allow! PLZ review! You are great! OMG! I am using so many exclamation points! :) **


	2. Hello

** Hi everyone! thx for all the great reviews and Alerts! I am overwhelmed! I took your advice and got someone to edit it, so hopefully the spelling and grammar mistakes will be minmal! plz enjoy! **

**Chap 2: Hello**

Peter ran with all of his might to where the gunshot came from. By the time he stopped running he was in a small abandoned square. He looked around with confusion. "this is where it came from," He thought, "I know it!"

Peter looked up just in time to see a piece of paper rip off a nearby door and fluttered by. On instinct, Peter reached out and caught the paper and looked at it quizzically, his lunch started coming up in his throat as he read it. The note read:

_Shame on you Agent Burke, leaving your agents and precious pet alone in that van? I hope nothing bad happens to them… I would try to get there quickly if I were you, your agents lives may just count on it! -SR_

Peter felt hot as he looked at the initials of the mystery forger. He has gone way to far this time! Thought peter angrily as he sprinted back in the direction of the van.

When Peter got to the van, he saw the door was slightly ajar. Peter drew his sidearm and ran up to the van. Throwing caution to the wind he threw the door open and nearly fainted.

The van was torn apart. Files were strewn across the floor, most of the monitors where smashed in, and chairs were overturned, but this was not the worst part. A ruby glistening liquid was all over the walls and floor. Blood. The word registered frantically in Peter's brain. He only could see the blood painting the walls, and in a large puddle on the floor, as well as the bloodied hand and foot prints smeared across the van.

With shaking hands, Peter fumbled for his cell and pushed in the only number he could think of.

"Hello?" said a female voice.

"Alex…"said Peter fumbling for words .

"Peter to what do I have this displeasure," said Alex in a cold voice.

"Nice to hear from you to," said Peter. "Alex listen this is important. I need you to have Mozzie track my cell and you two to get down here. Now!"

"And why would we do that?" she asked.

"Because I think Neal has been kidnapped and…he may be hurt," Peter said with desperation in his voice.

" We will be there in ten," said Alex as all emotion drained from her voice and she hung up.

Peter was just about to close his phone when another call started to come in. Peter had half a mind not to answer it. His head was getting fuzzy and he didn't feel so good, but he knew it could be important.

" Bur-ke." Said Peter stumbling over his words. He was seriously feeling like he was going to faint now.

"Agent Burke!" yelled the voice of a very angry sounding Hughes. " What the hell is going on! I did not authorize you to cut Caffrey's anklet! What in God's name where you thinking!"

" I-didn't I Neal's anklet….cut? No oh no… no…. he….Diana….Jones…the-re there…..gone," he slurred his mind was numb now and his legs where giving out beneath him.

"Agent Burke? Burke…Peter!" yelled Hughes "God damn it, Peter were coming in!"

Peter couldn't reply as his legs gave out and he tilted toward the pavement, passing out into oblivion"

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"Is he dead?" said a timid voice.

"No Mozzie, people just like to continue to breath when they die." snapped a rather attractive female leaning over the unconscious body of Agent Peter Burke.

"Well he could be-" Mozzie was cut off by the look Alex shot him. "I'll just look around for clues, you stay here." muttered Mozzie

Alex sighed as she placed her purse under Peter's head and her coat on top of him. She scanned the scene that Mozzie and she had found only minutes after she had gotten Peters call. "Neal what have you done this time?" she mused.

"Ugh!" cried Mozzie, "There seems to be some sort of toxin coming out of this thing! He said pointing to the van, "probably what got to Suit!" He swiftly flung the door open revealing the mess inside.

Alex would have vomited at the scene if not for the sound of screeching tires behind them. She reached instinctively for the gun concealed at her side but froze as she saw a swarm of Feds getting out of their vehicles. "Great," she hissed with frustration.

" Hold your position!" came a yell above the confusion. Hughes emerged through the crowd of agents who had all drawn their guns and were pointing them between a frightened looking Mozzie and an extremely pissed off looking Alex. " You two have ten seconds to tell me what you are doing here and what happened before I give them the O.K. to shoot!" he exclaimed.

"We have as much of an idea what went on here as you do," sighed Alex leaning down once again to check Peter's vitals, acting very calm despite all the guns trained on her. "Now tell your trigger happy puppies to put away their toys and we will , Peter needs some medical attention ASAP."

"Lower your weapons!" ordered Hughes As soon as the agents put their guns down Mozzie scampered next to Alex and tried to put on his best poker face. "So Miss. Hunter, Mozzie. Tell me exactly what you know."

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Diana's eyes fluttered open, her head was pounding and her wrists and arms where screaming in pain. She slowly took in her surroundings; she was hanging by her wrist which where zip tied above her to a metal pole in the ceiling, her feet just barely touching the ground. She was hanging in the middle of a small dimly lit room. There was a groan beside her and she suddenly realized that two figures where hanging there. She looked over just in time to see the dazzling blue eyes of Neal.

" Neal!" she exclaimed in surprise. " Are you ok? What happened?"

His eyes wandered around aimlessly for a minute before focusing on her. "You….you fell and then there were mean people, then then I don't remember," Neal slurred, trying to get his thoughts together.

Diana stared at Neal noticing one of his pupils was blown,"Neal can you look at me?" she stammered. As Neal turned his head she gasped as she saw the jagged glass covered cut running down the right side of his face. But this was not the worst. As her eyes traveled down, she saw the gaping hole in his shirt and the steady stream of blood dripping from it on to the floor.

She was about to say something when she heard a voice from the other side of Neal, "what the hell happened," said the voice of Clinton Jones.

"No freaken idea," answered Diana.

Just then the door burst open and a handsome man with bright green eyes and fly away blond hair strode in followed by two goons. "Well, it's nice to see everyone up!" he exclaimed in an all too cheery voice. Then he looked at Neal and frowned. "Well almost everyone," he announced looking Neal, up and down as Neal's eyes continued to wander aimlessly. Quickly, the man punched Neal in the face and he seemed to snap back to reality. "Works every time!" he said with a smirk. Then he spun in a circle and surveyed Diana and Jones.

Slowly he walked up to Diana and stopped poisoning his body centimeters away from hers. "Has anyone ever told you are divine?"he said as he moved in closer, with a smile that she only thought Neal could pull off.

"You're not my type!" growled Diana lashing her foot out at him. As he neatly dodged the blow and laughed.

"Don't think me stupid, I know all about all of you! Diana Barrigan, a lesbian daughter of a diplomat and one hell of a shot. Clinton Jones, you have been with the FBI for quite some time, yes? You also are the point man for Peter Burke in the White Collar Unit. Last, but not least, Neal Caffery. I know things about you that even the FBI doesn't suspect! You could say you where a mentor for me for a very long time!" we will spend lots of quality time! He laughed as Neal gave him a dirty look.

"Last time I checked kidnapping was not anywhere in my repertoire!" Neal hissed his voice full of venom.

"Well," said the man smoothly, "every repertoire has to be improved but where are my manners? I know you, yet you don't know me! My name is Sean Ryker. You probably know me as SR, but enough with this. You have a meeting with a video camera in an hour." He frowned at the agents as he opened the door, then leaned out and grabbed a baseball bat. He handed the bat to one of the goons and said, " They need to be hurt a bit more. This simply won't do!" Sean smiled as he closed the door behind him and yelled, "Have fun!"

Diana cursed under her breath as the bat flew at her. Suddenly her vision blurred and the breath was knocked out of her. The pain from her chest was just too much. Before she could grab her bearings a frist and made contact with her head. Her mind swam and faded. The last thing she heard was an anguished cry from Jones and a scream of "NO!" from Neal.

**hope you loved it! plz review! you may not think it but I DO spend hours pouring over reviews and using every scrap of advice, trying to incorprate what you want, plus the warm glow of praise doesn't hurt a writers motivation to get the next chapter done! LOVE YOU ALL SOOOO MUCH!-Emma**


	3. The chat

**Hello, I am again really appreciative of the reviews! You are all the best! **

Neal struggled as hard as he could as he, Diana,and Jones where dragged down the hallway. It had been an hour since they had been beaten. Neal shivered at the memories of not being able to help as the agents where hit again and again. He had just yelled until they gagged him to keep him quiet.

Thankfully, Diana had received a blow to the head which had knocked her out for the rest of the beating. Now she was awake again as they went down the hall. It was taking two goons to restrain her despite her injuries. He watched as she kicked and struggled hard; the goons had to hold her up in the air between them to keep her from inflicting serious injuries. Neal smirked slightly, as he watched Diana who had a long cut on her forearm, what he suspected was a dislocated wrist, she also had smaller cuts and the beginnings of major bruising. Not to mention that she had probably joined Neal in the concussion club, from the hit to the head she received. Yet if they let her go she probably would be able to put a goon or two in the hospital.

Neal stopped struggling as he realized it was useless, besides, his head was still fuzzy from blood loss and the the hole in his shoulder was not helping.

He started to look for an escape, but the goon that was dragging him was huge. He had Neal's shirt collar in one hand and Jones's collar in another and was dragging both their dead weight with ease. Neal then looked to Jones, now evaluating his situation. Neal saw Jones's ankle was twisted at an odd angle and swollen, along with that he seemed to have just as many welts and cuts as Diana. His face was contorted into a grimace as he obviously tried to keep down cries of pain from when his ankle hit a bump.

Suddenly, Neal realized that a goon had opened a door and they were dragged into a room that had three chairs with metal straps in the middle of the room. They were roughly shoved in the chairs and the metal bindings where quickly closed over their wrists, ankles (to which Jones let out a cry of pain as the strap was shove over his broken ankle), and a larger strap to secure their chests. Other than that no gags or zip ties where used. Neal noticed that he could pick these locks easily, It was like Sean was trying to make him do something stupid.

Just then, Sean strode into the room with a laptop, camera, and cell phone in tow. He promptly whistled to two goons who brought a table in for him to place his stuff on. It was placed in front of Sean facing the three captives.

"Are we having fun?" said Sean glancing up to face them as he set up the camera.

"Go to hell!" hissed Neal with a surprising amount of venom in his voice.

Sean stopped fiddling with his equipment and smoothly walked around the table. He put his mouth close to Neal's ear and whispered cockily, "Oh, but you already are there Neal." Then he viciously grabbed Neal by his bloody shoulder.

Neal tried to keep back the whimper but it escaped through his teeth anyway, Sean laughed and walked back to the table. Neal's face burned with anger, he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. He knew he had to hang on to his cool but he was losing his grip. Maybe it was the pain talking but Neal just wanted this done, no more did he care for his safety; he only cared for Diana and Jones. He made himself a promise, a promise that Diana and Jones would get out alive even if it cost him his life.

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Peter woke up with a start as he tried to sit up fast, but felt a hand on his shoulder, pushing him down. He looked to his side to see Alex sitting on a crate. As he took in the rest of his surrounding, he noticed he was laying on the ground of yet another utility van (he sometimes wondered exactly how many of these things the FBI had.) There was a blanket covering him and an oxygen mask over his face.

"This is a hell of a situation you dragged me into Burke," said Alex in a flat tone.

"Hell of a situation we're in," he muttered, his voice drowned out by the mask covering his face.

"How could you have let this happen?" Alex suddenly hissed as her calm front broke down. "Mozzie is worked up, you're a mess, and Neal is hurt and God knows where!"

"Neal is hurt?" Peter asked ripping the mask away from his face, "How do you know for sure?"

"Mozzie overheard that they ran the blood in the van and it matched t Neal's, Alex sighed. "All of it."

Peter was about to reply when the door to the van swung open and in marched Hughes.

"Peter good to see you awake," said Hughes quickly. "As you probably can assume, we have no time to spare. You tell me all you know about this now."

Peter was stunned at Hughes abruptness, but complied. He told him everything that had happened that day, from the moment they had stepped into the van until he had passed out. When he was done, he took the note from the mystery forger and handed it to Hughes. "Now you tell me what you know." Said Peter forcefully.

"We pulled surveillance from inside the van and-" Hughes begun.

"Wait, you have surveillance inside the van?" Peter questioned. He would have laughed if the circumstances were not so grave and he still didn't feel like he was going to puke.

" You would be amazed at what we installed since Caffery started working here," answered Hughes. " anyway, we saw the kidnapping. All I can say is that two FBI agents and a consultant where kidnapped."

"And?" pressed Peter knowing there was more.

"And I am so sorry, Peter, but Neal-"Hughes was cut off by a Probie running into the van out of breath.

"Sir! Sir! We have a feed trying to hack the system! We suspect it may be the kidnappers. should we shut it down or let it through?" huffed the winded Probie.

"Let them in," commanded Peter before Hughes could answer. The Probie looked at Hughes and Hughes nodded.

Everyone in the van crowded around the Probie as he tapped codes into a nearby computer, his fingers flying across the keyboard.

Suddenly, Peter's phone rang in his pocket; he quickly reached and picked it up just as the video footage came to life on the computer. On the screen stood a handsome man with a cocky smile that reminded Peter very much of Neal's smile. Peter realized the man was the same, yet the exact opposite of Neal. He had dirty blond hair and was perfectly styled, it was Spiked to the side in the front, with a kind of flyaway look to the rest of it. His clothes where fashionable, yet he wore only jeans and a tee the most stunning thing was his eyes, his eyes where a deep emerald color that seemed to pierce right through the computer with ease.

"Hello Peter," the voice spoke from the phone and the computer at the same time. "Nice to finally met you! I hope it's as much as a pleasure for you as it is for me."

"Who the hell is this? What the hell do you want and where the hell are my agents?" Peter practically yelled his voice getting louder with every word.

"Agent Burke calm yourself!" the man said taking on a false hurt look. You wouldn't want anyone to get hurt, I think not. Now, down to business. My name is Sean Ryker and I know the drill. You want to know what I want, you want proof of life, blah blah blah. Well, I can tell you that they are not dead but for in good shape… I will let you judge for yourself."

The camera suddenly turned and Peter heard everyone take a sharp intake of breath,as they saw three agents sitting there the camera focused on them from the waist up.

First, was Jones he was pale and was covered in cuts and bruises. He also had a grimace on his face that looked like he could desperately use a couple pain killers.

Next, was Neal who was indeed the worst. He was slumped over barely able to hold his head up to look at the camera. His hair was matted and his shoulder was dripping heavily of blood. His eyes where dull and could barely focus on anything.

Diana was struggling against her binding. She looked the camera head on with a determined yet pleading look in her eyes. As her eyes locked on the camera she cried out. "Don't listen Peter! We're as good as de-" she was cut short as a goon behind her grabbed her face and forced a rag in her mouth, then roughly stuck duct tape over it.

"Agent Barrigan, you and Mr. Caffery have been causing trouble from the start! This deserves punishment," Sean mused, as he walked in circles around the three chairs. Suddenly he shifted sideways and delivered an acute roundhouse kick to Neal's ribs.

Peter flinched as he heard a bone jarring crunch. He watched in horror as Neal's body convulsed then lay still as Neal's eyes closed. "What?" asked Sean with a childish innocence. "I would never kick a lady!"

Then he wiped around and delivered a hard punch to Diana's stomach. Causing her to double over and cry out but the sound was stopped by the tape over her mouth. " Punch on the other hand, I can do." Sean said shaking his hand out.

Jones suddenly tried to lunge at Sean but his restraints held fast. Sean laughed and grabbed Jones by the throat and started to squeeze. at this point Peter his cool, "Stop it! Let him go or I swear I will hunt you down and kill you! You bastard!"

Sean gave one more squeeze then let go of Jones, he gasped and wheezed for air. "These are my demands," Sean said flatly turning slowly to face the camera. Ten million dollars for each agent in unmarked bills. Send Agent Burke and one other individual will come to the Chelsea pier at exactly one o'clock tomorrow with the money. My demands will be met if you want your agents to live."

"Your demands will be met," growled Peter.

"Very good," said Sean resting his hands on the back of Diana's chair making her squirm. "See you around." He smirked then the screen went blank.

"Peter," said Hughes regaining his bearings.

Peter did not hear his mind was seared on the image of a pained Jones, a hurt Diana, and the unconscious Neal.

"Peter!" Hughes snapped.

"Yes," said Peter in a steady voice.

"Go home. We already put a protection detail on your wife, so go be with her."

"I know what you are doing Reece, your'e trying to keep me as far from this case as possible." Snapped Peter.

"Yes I am! You better damn well respect it! Now go home and we will call if we need you." Hughes barked.

"Fine." Said Peter curtly and stormed out of the van. Alex followed promptly then turned to Peter once they were outside.

"He's right Peter, you're too close to this." Before Peter could respond, Alex walked off.

He grinned slightly at the idea. Like hell he was leaving this case, he had only just begun.

**I can tell you not even I know what exactly going to happen next but stay tuned! Also I apologize for not updating a lot! for a full list of good excuses plz visit my page! And don't forget to review, you would not believe the warm fuzzy feeling I get inside when I get one! - Emma**


	4. ransom

**Sorry for taking so long to update! I have had a hectic life from my cosuin being hit by a drunk driver ( he is ok!) to school beening crazy! But I couldn't have asked for a faster better beta reader so for that I thank you morgo7kc your the best!**

Classified material:  
Security level: Alpha  
Date: April 2, 2011 2300 hours  
Location: Classified  
Record of top secret meeting between the Director of the FBI, Robert Muller, head of the White Collar Unit Agent, Reese Hughes, and the head of Black Operations, (Classified).  
Beginning transmission…Now:

"No! For the last time Reese, Burke cannot be on this case!"  
"With all due respect sir, Burke caught Caffrey twice he may-"  
"God damnit Reese, we are not dealing with just a smart ** con man, we are dealing with a man that fits the category of a blood thirsty sociopath! And this maniac just made the most wanted list for at least twenty agencies world wide and that number keeps growing by the hour! This man is way out of your league!"  
"I have seen Ryker's profile and I know it is at least three times longer than Caffrey's. We can take this bastard down, just give me a chance Robert. My team has taken down harder targets."  
"I have to agree with Hughes on this one dear director. The feats of the 'invincible' White Collar Unit has made its way to even the most sensitive and dangerous units of the FBI, and I must say we are impressed."  
"Thank you (Classified), and by the way Burke says Caffrey has this short friend that I think would love to meet you somti-"  
"You two cut the chit chat, don't forget we are on a deadline here. Reese, I'll give you headway but you're on a short leash. Now, on to our next topic: the ransom, should we cooperate?"  
"It's our best chance."  
"Agreed."  
"Where do we get the money?"  
"The official budget will only allow us five million."  
"We can pull fifteen million from various 'unofficial' resources. That makes twenty million. We have to leave one behind." (Looks of understanding exchange between Director Mueller and (Classified). Agent Hughes looks horrified.)  
"Sir… you don't mean we have to leave- he is a valued asset!"  
"I know Reese, I like it as much as you do but protocol states tha-" (Agent Hughes's cell phone rings, interrupting director Mueller. With a quick apology he answers, talks briefly, then hangs up.)  
"We have our other ten million dollars from a ligament source."  
"How did you…"  
"That is for me to know, not you. Burke will meet you at 12 o'clock in the White Collar Unit. Goodnight gentlemen." (Agent Hughes walks out, director Mueller looks dumb founded, and XXXXXXX laughs.)  
"What's so funny?"  
"You call Black Ops mysterious but White Collar blows us out of the water in that category."  
End transmission….Now.

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Meanwhile  
Peter walked slowly through his front door. As much as he usually loved to be home, this was the one time he wanted to be in the field working. After they kicked him out he had wandered around central park for hours before going home, it was late now and his home quiet. He was about to take another step when he suddenly realized that three pairs of eyes were boring from the side into him. He turned slowly and saw his wife sitting around the coffee table across from the unmistakable Mozzie and Alex. All three of them where frozen mid-conversation, all heads turned to him.  
"You know I am very nervous that she knows where I live now." Peter addressed Mozzie, jerking his head toward Alex. Elizabeth broke the silence,  
"Hon, they told me what happened today, they're here to help."  
"How?" Peter asked, traces of hostility in his voice.  
"We are going to help pay the ransom." Alex said bluntly.  
"Huh… should I even try to ask you where you will get the money?" Peter quipped sarcastically.  
"We liquidized assets…" Alex recalled.  
"A lot of assets," muttered Mozzie  
"Sold some um…stuff."  
"Some good stuff mind you," said Mozzie, while making air quotes at the word "stuff".  
"And some other activities that I will purposely not mention in the presence of a Fed."  
"And you did this in what, three hours? Is that even physically possible!" exclaimed Peter.  
"Well when Mozzie is upset he gets persuasive and determined, and I get my charm on, with a little bit of threatening involved we can -"  
"Ah ah ah! It was a rhetorical question!" Peter cut in slapping his hands over his ears. Mozzie sighed,  
"We have ten million dollars," he said as if it was no big deal.  
"What! How... I mean….n-ever mind, we can use the money as long as you call Hughes and tell him." Alex looked like she was going to protest but the look Peter gave her seemed to make her shut up. Peter dialed Hughes' number and handed the phone to Alex. The conversation was brief and to the chase. When Alex hung up the phone, everyone held their breath. Her face broke into a slight grin and she announced,  
"We have just enough money for the ransom!" A simultaneous release of breath could be heard around the room but it stayed quiet untill El (Whom they had totally forgotten was there, chirped in,  
"Does anyone want cake?" and the tension broke. Peter allowed himself to smile slightly as they all sat down once again.  
Later that night when Mozzie and Alex had left, Peter lay in bed. sleep not coming. He knew he should be happy, everything was going so smoothly with these people, but deep inside he knew that when Neal Caffrey was involved, nothing was clean cut.

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Jones wheezed and coughed as he lay on the floor of the room they were previously tied up in, his esophagus and larynx where still trying to recover from the damage. Unfortunately, this recovery only lasted for a second before Diana was thrown head first into the room landing ** top of him knocking the breath out of both of them. Next came Neal who was thrown completely to the side and smashed into the wall, Jones winced at the dull thud Neal made but Neal only issued a weak groan.  
The goons that had brought them there let out small chuckles then closed the door and locked it, leaving Diana, Jones, and Neal untied in the dimly lit room. As soon as they left Diana scrambled off Jones to examine the further extent of Neal's injuries. Jones tried to follow her but the second he put pressure on his ankle he fell back in a torrent of agony, his black spots threatened to obscure his vision and he let out a ragged (because I don't think you can scream well when your throat was just crushed.) cry of pain.  
"Shhhh." He heard a calming voice coo as he felt someone helping him stand without putting pressure on his leg. The figure helped him hop to the wall as his vision began to clear; he slid down the wall with relief and rested his weary body. As his vision fully returned he saw Diana leaning over him with a slight smirk on her face.  
Jones looked questioningly at her then asked  
"What is so funny?"  
"I always knew I would be the one bailing you guys out when you need help."  
"Am not!"  
"Are too."  
"But-"  
"At least I can walk."  
"You win on that point," said Jones, once again grimacing in pain, "How's Neal?"  
"He's barley lucid but looks stable for now, despite that he needs medical attention desperately."  
"Well, we'll have to do for now," said Jones propping himself up on the wall, "bring him over here." Diana quickly went to Neal and grasped him as tentatively as possible under the arms, then began to drag him to Jones. Neal whimpered and put up a little bit of a protest but overall was very corruptive. She stopped next to Jones who took Neal's head lightly and put it in his lap.  
"OK…" said Jones fumbling for his field first aid training, "first let's stop this bleeding, and then bandage his chest."

Diana seemed to snap back to her senses, and not missing a beat, took off her own shirt and began to tear it into strips, leaving her top half in only a sports bra. Jones's eyes widened in surprise, this was the last thing he would have expected and it would have been awkward in ANY situation except this one. She took the strips and had Jones hold Neal up a little as she secured his shoulder and chest. They both tried to ignore the terrible whimpers of pain that came from Neal; unfortunately they were with little success.

Soon Neal was sleeping peacefully, his head now in Diana's lap. Jones watched in silence as she stroked his hair as he slept. Suddenly she broke the silence and whispered in a shaky, un-Diana-like voice, "Do you think we'll get out of this alive?" Jones was surprised as he heard his colleague-no she was more of a sister-speak like that.

"We'll make it, I know it," he whispered, "go to sleep. I will take the first shift on watch."

She did not object to the idea, but just rested her head on his shoulder. He sighed as he leaned his head on top of hers and tried to keep his eyes open, but the effort was futile and soon all three were asleep.

Jones woke with a start in the morning as the door to the tiny room was flung open, and in strode the one person in the world he wanted to see the least.

"Morning," said Sean calmly surveying the situation of a glaring Jones, sitting next to a shirtless Diana who had her arms protectively around Neal. who also was looking a little better and was slowly waking up. Sean cocked his head to the side, "Cute," he quipped, "what happened to your shirt? Wait; don't tell me, it looks a lot better in my head."

Diana was about to reply when Neal suddenly groaned and sat up all on his own, Diana grasped him quickly to make sure he didn't fall again but he seemed to be holding his own.

"Ahh… and the prodigal son returns to the world of the living I see! Now, let's get this hostage exchange on a roll, all of you hold out your arms. I'm going to inject you with a light sedative, just enough to confuse you so you can't run, nothing to worry about, unless you refuse. Then it gets painful." Sean told them.

With reluctance, Jones and Diana held out there arms, and with Diana's help, so did Neal. As soon as Jones felt the needle prick, his mind went fuzzy. He wasn't acutely aware as he was yet again carried to the van. He remembered that Sean was in the back seat with them, and that angry feeling when Diana's (who was completely out of it) head had slipped in to his lap, and the smile that had shown on Sean's face. Then he remembered a boat, being on a boat.

Cold water splashed on his face, jolting him to reality. He suddenly found himself in a cabin of a boat, and it was filling with water fast. As more of his senses returned, he realized that Diana was in front of him, shaking his shoulders desperately.

"Wake up Jones! Wake up!" she cried.

"What's going on?" he slurred.

"We have to get out!" she yelled

He tried to get up but the pain in his ankle told him otherwise. He watched Diana take a fire extinguisher, for it was the only item on the bare walls, and bash the door of the cabin in till it burst open. Suddenly a rush of water flowed in, engulfing them. Jones struggled against the water but with a useless ankle he wasn't making much progress. Suddenly a pair of arms grabbed him, pulling him forward, Jones's lungs where burning and he was sure he was going to pass out when his head broke the surface. He gasped for air, looking next to him he saw Diana doing the same, her arms still around him.

Suddenly the force of the current started to pull them under. Jones tried to kick but the pain was just too much, he went limp in Diana's arms.

"We are going to die," This was the thought that entered his head, "after all this is the end." He felt Diana trying to kick but was failing to keep them above the surface. They were traveling deeper into the dark water, and now everything was at an eerie peace. The pain was subsiding and all sounds where fading. Then there was a sudden swish of the water around his as something grasped him harshly.

He tried to struggle but the darkness was closing in on him, Jones opened his mouth to scream but only water rushed in and his world went black.

Thump...Thump...Thump. Jones just wanted the noise to stop. Thump… he could feel it in his chest now; the next sound was a voice "Come on, Jones, come on, buddy, don't you dare die on me now!" He tried to respond but his lungs were full of fluid, he was starting to choke on it and his lungs suddenly rejected the liquid. He retched to his side and coughed it up in horrible gags.

As his eyes opened they focused on the dripping wet face in front of him. "P'ter how- did you find us? Where is Diana? Jones choked out. He looked to his side and saw Diana lying there trying to sit up.

"The paramedics will be here soon, just relax you'll be ok," said the familiar face of Peter Burke then he kind of casually turned to Diana and asked, "by the way, where is your shirt?"

"We used it to bandage up Neal-" Diana suddenly gasped as the horrible realization dawned on everyone, "Oh God! Neal! Where is Neal?"

Jones went in to full on panic he tried to get up despite the pain, Peter was trying to hold him down to the dock they were laying on. Then there were more people in uniforms trying to calm him. They were yelling something. Suddenly one of the people pulled out a needle making him kick and scream harder. "NO NO NO! GET AWAY! GET OFF ME!" He screamed as they tried desperately to control his flailing limbs. Then for the second time today he felt the prick of a needle in his arm and the world faded, but one thought did not, "Where was Neal?"

**OHHH confusing! don't worry I will unscramble it in the next chapter!-Emma always review and excuses for not posting enough are on my site!**


	5. Getting away

**Hieveryone! For a Easter presnt, I made this extra long! You may notice that I use The metric system but Im american! Well, I'm the type of american that dosn't like the US custamary system, sorry if this incovinences you, but bare with me. Happy to oblige if this does convenience you. Also I need to thank the best person EVER my awsome beta reader Morgo7kc, You rock!**

The car pulled up to the pier aat 1258 hours exactly, the pier was crowded with people but none of them looked remotely like the people they were looking for. Peter stepped out of the car and on the other side, so did Agent Rice of the Missing Persons Division. He had not really liked the idea of bringing her along, but she knew a hell of a lot more about ransoms and hostage exchanges then he did, plus she still owed Neal big time.

"So what now? asked Agent Rice curtly.

"I have no idea in the faintest," muttered Peter, trying to crane his neck to look for any sign of the kidnapers.

"So let me get this straight: You're going to meet a sociopath with a history of violence, with a enough money in your trunk to buy a small cruise liner, unarmed with no way of defending yourself or back up for that matter, and you dragged me along?" asked Agent Rice with a look on her face that told Peter she was seriously questioning his sanity.

"In a nutshell, yes," replied Peter, focusing his eyes on her, "Besides you offered to come along."

"I will never understand you White Collar people," she muttered.

"Admit it, you love us," Peter teased.

"In your dreams," answered Rice, brushing off the idea, "besides it's officially 1:01 and nothing is happening, are you sure you got the place right?"

Peter was about to give her a rather snappy reply when as if on cue, his phone rang. Peter grabbed it up and answered.

"Hey Burke," came a playful, all-too-familiar voice on the other side of the line, "here's an idea that might just save your friends' lives. Ditch your little girlfriend; away from the car of course, we don't want her to get hurt, do we? Then run-I don't know-one kilometer north. You better do it fast, you don't have long! Also be a dear and leave the keys in the car. Clocks ticking, chop chop!" Then the line went dead

"Rice I need you to do something with no questions, can you do that?" asked Peter adrenaline pumping threw his veins.

"Burk-"

"CAN YOU?" Peter screamed he could feel time slipping away from him.

"Yes," she answered threw her teeth.

"Get yourself a coffee."

"But…"

"No questions! Do it for the sake of Neal, Diana, Jones, me, you, and the whole god damn FBI!"

Without a word she turned on her heel and walked away, looking hurt, but Peter had no time for her feelings. He just took off running.

Peter had ran maybe a kilometer when he realized he was at a dock peeking out into the water, a gut feeling sunk in and he stopped. He was exhausted, all the adrenaline had worn off but he managed to turn to that dock and sprint the whole length. When he got to the end his phone buzzed again, and again he eagerly answered.

"I'm here, where are you?" he snapped. Peter Burke was done playing games, he meant business.

"Watching you," came the calm voice of the super sociopath genius that was even more immature than Neal, if that was even possible, "I must say you are very good at following directions! I know, we should play Simon says next!" He giggled at his own joke like a hyper five year old, which in turn really pissed off Peter.

"Peter," said Sean drawing out his name to prove the point him being in control, "I'm a nice guy, so I'll tell you how to save your agents. There is a boat they're on, but I may have put some holes in it."

Peter face turned deadly and he almost screamed but was brought back to his senses by Sean's playful voice, "Petey," Sean teased him, with what he suspected was his new nickname, "Don't look like that, they'll escape fine, without your help! Wait, oh no they won't! Silly me I forgot the sedative I put in there system. It's my own concoction! And if I may say so myself, it works oh too well," Sean bragged in a cocky tone. "It makes a person just confused enough to not be a hero…but when the victim participates in over-exerting activities such as swimming they are rendered paralyzed."

"So what you're saying is that even if they get out they'll drown anyway?" Peter hissed not bothering keeping the anger out of his tone.

"And you win the prize, Petey! It's a perfect watery grave, unless Petey Panda Bear can help!" Sean laughed one more time before the line went dead.

Peter released a torrent of swears and looked around desperately. He didn't even give a second thought to his newest much extended nickname (I mean really what does Peter have that remotely relates to a Panda Bear? Oh yeah, I'm writing the story so… go Petey Panda Bear!) And right on cue, a boat that was practically sunk floated into view from almost nowhere. The boat bobbed up to reveal a splintered door. Peter's heart dropped to his stomach, hell it was in his toes. He knew what that meant: they were out and they were going to drown.

Just as panic and utter loss of hope was beginning to set in he looked over to his right and couldn't believe his eyes. He saw a woman with dark skin and long, wet, black hair burst through the water. He wasted no time before turning on his heels to run to the figure. As he watched he saw she was obviously struggling to swim in general not to mention it looked like she was trying to hold something or someone in her arms. As quickly as he saw her, the current pulled her under again.

Peter ripped of his jacket and kicked off his shoes rather ungracefully as he ran, not caring where they landed, before diving head first in to the cold churning water where Diana had disappeared seconds ago. Peter fought the sensation of shock as the cold water hit him. He kicked hard, propelling himself forward, trying to reach the figure ahead of him. He reached her surprisingly easily. He grabbed her form around the waist and shoulders from behind before dragging her to the surface. With a painful effort he heaved her up on the dock and he carefully placed her on the dock. He was about to check her vitals when her eyes flew open and she grabbed his wrist.

"Jones…. St'll in wat'r…. to hard to swim," she rasped between coughs, her eyes wide with fear.

"Shit!" Peter exclaimed as he once again jumped head first into the freezing water. As the bubbles around him cleared his stinging eyes searched for any sign of the Jr. Agent. The pressure of the liquid around him was growing by the second to almost unbearable heights. Then he saw a sight that would probably haunt his dreams for a long time: Jones's contorted pale form was limply sinking ever so deep into the murky water. Peter swam with all his might towards Jones; he reached out with his arms grasping Jones around the chest with one arm and his waist with the other, just like he did to Diana. Just as his arms grabbed Jones, (who Peter assumed to be unconscious) Jones panicked. He tried to squirm away but the effort was futile with the sedative pulsing through his veins. The real problem was that Jones tried to scream at the same time. Peter watched horrified as Jones choked on the water that had rushed to fill his lungs before going limp.

Yet another pulse of adrenaline kicked in as Peter broke the surface and heaved Jones on to the dock next to Diana. He didn't even check for a pulse, he just started pumping on Jones chest, watching as streams of water gurgled out of the agent's mouth on each pump. "Come on, Jones, come on buddy! Don't you dare die on me now!" screamed Peter. Oblivious of the gathering crowd of, Agent Rice, whom had probably tracked him here from the second he left, with a phone to her ear requesting a medevac.

Peter pumped one more time and Jones's body convulsed as he turned, and with a gurgling heave coughed up more water than Peter thought possible on the dock. He slowly opened his eyes and whispered, "P'ter how you… find… us? Where is Diana?" Jones rasped.

Peter took a quick glance at Diana whose hair was speckled with dirt and gravel from laying on the dock sopping wet. She was also shivering violently which reminded Peter how damn cold he was too. He looked at Jones and said "The paramedics will be here soon, just relax you'll be okay." Then he kind of casually turned to Diana and asked, "by the way, where is your shirt?" trying to keep her distracted while the paramedics approached.

"We used it to bandage up Neal-" Diana suddenly gasped as the horrible realization dawned on everyone, "Oh God! Neal! Where is Neal?"

All of a sudden, turmoil broke out. The paramedics arrived, pushing Peter aside. Jones started to scream hysterically (or as loud as you can scream when you've been practically choked and drowned in the same day) plus fights the paramedics, who were trying to sooth him. This caused Diana to start screaming at the paramedics working on her that she was fine and the paramedics working on Jones to leave him the hell alone, that they where scaring him. (It was very true and Peter couldn't blame him.)

But everything was a whirl of color around Peter as the shock of Neal's absence set in. He was fading in and out of the world. One second he was on the dock the next he was in the ambulance holding Diana's hand in a death grip as she lay there. Then he was in the emergency waiting room and El was there crying and hugging him before going home to check on Satchmo. Next came Agent Rice saying the money was gone from the car and there was no sign of Neal. The next thing Peter new he heard "Agent Burke?" someone was shaking his shoulder.

He opened his eyes to see a nurse there, "Wha?" he mumbled rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Your agents are ready to see you, they have been cleaned up and banged and Agent Jones is out of surgery. We had to set his ankle, it was a bad break. Also Agent Berrigan suffered a concussion and some significant bruising and cuts and a dislocated wrist, but she should be able to answer questions without to much strain. I will warn you, Agent Jones suffered a cracked trachea and fluid in the lungs which will make it hard for him to talk, oh and I almost forgot both have fractures to the ribs." Said the nurse in a fast paced tone and confusing order.

Peter wrote it all down on a note: Diana: concussion and wrist dislocated, Jones: Ankle broken, cracked trachea, and fluid in lungs, both: significant cuts and bruising and rib fractures. Along with this he made mental note to kill that bastard Sean.

Peter walked into Jones and Diana's room past the protection detail they placed outside, he looked around the room before focusing on the agents. Diana was awake and staring into space (a lovely side affect of morphine) with what seemed to be way too many tubes connected to her, a lot of bandages, he winced at the black and blue blotches that entwined her chest where the bandages didn't cover, she also had a bright blue cast on her wrist. Peter tried not to laugh. Of course Diana had to go with the colored cast, it was so typical. "Hey," said Diana in a soft voice not bothering to look at him.

Peter went to her bed side and grasped her in a hug. "Ouch," she groaned.

"Sorry," said Peter. "I'm just glad to see you."

"Me too, it means we lived. Speaking of that, did you find Neal? Or his…his… bo-" her voice rising with each syllable.

"Hey, hey, hey, don't go there yet we'll find him alive!" said Peter calming Diana trying to not let her voice wake Jones who was sound asleep in a similar condition to Diana, but unlike Diana he had no hospital gown on and the area where the gown covered that was wrapped tightly in bandages. There was a nasty looking tube in his side, Peter assumed that it was to drain the fluid from his lungs. He had the same amount of bruises and cuts; he also had a orange cast around his left leg. God, Peter worked with children.

Diana saw Peter eyeing Jones's cast, "I insisted they make it orange," she whispered tears swelling in her eyes as she looked at Jones.

"He'll love it you know orange is his favorite color," (I looked it up, but I have no idea what Jones's favorite color is.) Soothed Peter taking Diana's hand in his. He usually was bad at this comforting stuff but this was Diana she was family.

"O.K., Diana, I need you to tell me everything."

So Diana started to tell the events from when he left the van until he pulled her ashore.

"We're not going to find Neal, are we?" she asked with sadness in her eyes.

"We will..."

Just then, Peter's cell rang. It was from Sean so he put it on speaker and called in the agents from the hall so they could all lean in and hear. Peter took a breath and answered the phone, it was silent for a second before he asked "What now?"

"That's not nice P'ter," came a slurred very familiar voice from the other end of the phone.

Everyone in the room except for Jones who was on some pretty heavy sedative sat up. "Neal? Where are you? What happened?" asked Peter desperately.

"I, I, I… don't know," Neal responded in a confused voice.

"Neal, stay on the line, we're coming!" yelled Peter, so loud it woke Jones with a jolt.

"I can keep the phone on but I don't-"

There was a thump and a sound of a breath being let out. Then all was silent, except the sound of crickets.

"NEAL!" yelled Peter as he tore out of the room. The last thing he saw of the room was an ecstatic yet worried Diana and a very sleepy, confused Jones.

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Neal felt like he had been hit by a train. Every muscle in his body ached and every bone felt broken. He blearily opened his eyes and forced his body to obey him as he sat up, almost falling over as his ribs, shoulder, and-hell-the rest of him screamed in protest. All of this was almost enough to put him under, not to mention the blinding head ache.

He felt a hand help him up and as the world stopped spinning he realized that he had been lying in Diana's lap, and she had no shirt on. He closed his eyes again but kept sitting upright, "Oh, she will never hear the end of this one when we get out of here." Neal thought, but the little voice in the back of his head disagreed, "Don't be mean," it teased, "Diana used her shirt to bandage you, remember? She was comforting you, besides its not when we get out of here, it's _if_ we get out of here!"

He wanted to tell the voice to "Shut the hell up," but he already was hurting and he didn't want to look crazy too.

With a jolt he came back to reality as Diana suddenly grabbed his body in a protective fashion. Neal took a sharp inhale of breath from the pain but was able to stay calm. "Come on Neal," he told himself, "get in reality! Survey your situation, use your brain."

Neal let out a painful breath before opening his eyes once again. He took in all the details in the way he did with a painting. He saw Diana holding him protectively, anger and fear on her face. She was scootched as close to Jones as possible. He saw Jones with a look of pain, fear, and hatred in his eyes, a look he never saw on Jones and hoped never to see again. Lastly he took in Sean, the bastard stood above them with a smug look of satisfaction on his face as he saw how utterly helpless his captives where.

Neal then tuned into what Sean was saying, "I'm going to inject you with a light sedative, just enough to confuse you so you can't run, nothing to worry about, unless you refuse. Then it gets painful." Sean told them. Neal had no idea what they were talking about but doing as he was told looked like the best bet if he wanted Jones and Diana to survive.

He tried to hold out his arm but was just too weak to lift it. Diana leaned over and with her free arm helped him hold his up. Neal kept his eyes forward while the others were injected with the liquid. First he heard Jones letting out a breath that he probably was holding in before they injected him and the unmistakable thud as he slumped to his side hitting the floor.

Neal started to shake with anger. He had made a promise to save them but now they were being rendered immobile to the mercy of a sociopath and he couldn't help but blame himself for being helpless.

He felt Diana drop his arm and fall onto his shoulder, making a shock of pain rocket through his body. He let out a sharp breath while biting his tongue,determined not to scream. Closing his eyes tight, he waited in fear for the needle prick but it never came. Neal opened his eyes just a crack and almost screamed as he saw Sean sitting on the floor right smack dab in front of him, literally centimeters away. "Scared yet, Neal?" asked Sean.

"Not really," Neal replied flatly.

"Well we'll just have to fix that," said Sean standing up and brushing his jeans off, Neal knew what Sean was going to do even before Sean moved but he wasn't able to defend himself as Sean's sneaker came flying at him hitting him square in the spleen.

"Jesus fucking Christ! What the hell is with you and kicking?" Neal expected to scream and he really did, but what words came out of his mouth was unexpected. He had under estimated his own determination.

"Eh. It's kind of a compulsion problem." Sean said, dismissing the outburst.

"It's not your only problem," muttered Neal under his breath.

"I heard that," snapped Sean as he leaned over and grabbed Neal roughly, making Neal wince and Diana slump further to the floor, and spun him around quickly, putting handcuffs that seemed to appear out of nowhere around his wrists. Then he paused, contemplating something in his mind before grabbing Neal's mouth and forcing it open and putting a rag inside and duct tape over his lips.

Neal gave Sean a confused look, "I bet you want to know why I'm not sedating you, Neal? Well I have different plans for you." As Sean said this Neal broke into a sweat, violence was not his thing. It was understandable he did not take indentations of more violence well. "Aww…don't be scared, buddy. It'll only hurt a lot, but we have things to attend to first."

Sean turned around and whistled to the goons who just loved to drag them down the hall, and sure enough the big one (that Neal had nicknamed Fluffy because of his, oh so gracious hospitality, he was kind of a right hand man to Sean) roughly picked up the still forms of Jones and Diana in each arm and the smaller one (he call him Smiles for the frown he kept on his face, and was, well, Sean's left hand man) grabbed Neal by his neck and forced him onto his feet. Immediately a feeling of nausea rolled over Neal and he fell back to the floor.

Smiles tried to kick Neal but Sean stepped in between the two, grabbed Smiles leg, and in one fluid motion flipped Smiles on his head "Ouch! Sorry, Boss, " apologized Smiles to Sean.

"Did we talk about hurting the captives?" Sean said in a rhetorical question way, "I'll take him myself." With that Sean leaned down, grabbing Neal under the armpits, and with surprising strength, hosted him up so he was propped against him in an almost standing position. Neal didn't fight it; he was too tired, so he leaned his full weight against Sean. This in turn did not bother Sean at all, and then Sean started to walk backwards to the door, dragging Neal while Fluffy carried Jones and Diana, and Smiles opened doors.

As they walked outside Neal was blinded by the sunlight. He hadn't realized that it had been at least 48 hours since he had seen it last. This didn't last long before Sean rather gently lifted Neal into a bare back of a van where he sat him on the floor. Next he grabbed Jones and sat the barely conscious man next to Neal. Jones immediately slumped onto Neal's lap, which made him wince, but he didn't have the heart to move him. Lastly Sean pulled Diana into the van and closed the door. Neal heard the engine start and assumed Smiles and Fluffy where driving. Sean propped Diana up next to him on the other side of the van where he could keep an eye on Neal. Diana, like Jones, slumped promptly into Sean's lap.

Neal made a loud growl in his throat as Sean smiled in a satisfied manner. He would've like to curse but his gag would not let him. Sean just gave him a wink, knowing that Neal was too weak to do anything, "This is most definitely one of the best days in Sean's life," Neal thought.

They rode in silence for a while before Neal heard the engine cut and the distinct sound of a foghorn. "They were at the water? But why? Neal had a lot of terrible ideas but they probably weren't twisted enough to fit Sean's profile."

"Not to worry, Neal. This is the hostage exchange remember? Except we're not at the Chelsea pier, where about 1.5 Kilometers away. We're putting your friends on a boat and sending them out, but the boat has holes. I doubt they'll survive if Burke doesn't leave the money. It's genius, right? Neal Caffrey-worthy!

Neal had to admit that this was good in its own twisted way. He was taking advantage of Peter's emotional attachments for his agents.

"Of course they'll make it, but you won't. You sadly are competition in my field, my only leveled opponent, and I take my opponents out in person."

Before Neal could react Jones was dragged off him and Diana off Sean. Neal tried to lunge and grab them, but he didn't even make it half way before Sean's arm shot out and landed a clean palm heal strike to Neal's battered ribs. It wasn't a hard strike, but in Neal's condition it was enough. He fell to the ground, paralyzed in pain. For a second he thought he was going to pass out but unfortunately he stayed painfully conscious. He lay there helplessly as Diana and Jones were carried to their pending doom. As they walked down the dock Diana opened her eyes and they locked with Neal's. Neal's heart sunk as he saw the fear in her eyes, the fear that none of them could now deny.

After Smiles and Fluffy had come back, they had dropped off Sean and drove Neal somewhere else. Neal made no struggle when they took him out of the van; he realized that he recognized the place that he was being dragged into. It was a warehouse district right near Peter's house. He began to hyperventilate, praying they didn't know were Peter lived. Oh god, El was home at this hour! Neal had to assume the worst. Fluffy suddenly stopped and pushed Neal against a wall of the warehouse and handcuffed him to a pipe, plus tore off his gag. Neal of course slid directly to the ground, not able to support his own weight.

"Here is the deal, kid," said Fluffy, "Bossman is coming to shoot you in an hour and then lead your partner's wife to find you mangled corpse, so you ponder that while I order Chinese." Neal wasn't really listening, he didn't want to; instead he was eyeing the cell phone that Smiles kept clipped to the outside of his pants.

As the men started to walk away Neal knew he only had one chance. "Wait!" he yelled, "What do I call you guys? Because Fluffy and Smiles doesn't cut it."

It worked like a charm: both Smiles and Fluffy came at him; they then continued to pummel him to a pulp, or a finer pulp. Until they got bored and went for Chinese, when they left Neal huddled in the corner, wanting to close his eyes and never open them ever again, but he knew better. He sat up as much as he could against the wall, and smiled as he slipped the cell phone out of his pocket. He flipped it open.

"No reception, crap." Neal whispered.

He took the cell phone holder and tore out the wire, He twisted the wire at a ninety degree angle and painfully twisting his wrist at a odd angle too. He smiled at this rewarding yet so painful accomplishment before jamming the wire into the handcuffs. Neal felt an adrenaline rush kick in, the pain began to numb and his muscles return to him, then he began picking.

As soon as Neal had one wrist undone he staggered to his feet, and made his way to the warehouse door. "Come on…com-"CLICK! Neal almost jumped with joy as the door to the warehouse flew open. Suddenly some blue prints in the corner caught his eye. So far Smiles and Fluffy were still on their Chinese food run. He looked at the blue prints and in horror realized what they were (no you don't get to know yet! I'm just mean that way ); "he had to tell Peter!"

Neal stepped into the dark alleyway outside just as he heard Smiles and Fluffy return through the other door. Panic struck Neal and he began to sprint at full speed, causing excruciating pain from all the jostling. He heard yelling behind him, as he whipped around the corner. He didn't realize were he was heading until he was maybe three houses away from the Burkes. He took out the cell phone as he limped toward the house. Pain was edging its way back into his reality, and he dialed in Peter's number.

The cell phone rang a few times before he heard Peters voice, "What now?" he snapped

"That's not nice P'ter," slurred Neal, as he leaned against the Burke's mailbox ,spreading a bloody hand print across the white surface. His adrenaline rush had faded and now the pain was edging back into his reality.

"Neal? Where are you, what happened?' Asked Peter desperately from the other end of the phone.

"I I I…. don't know," Neal responded in a confused voice, the world was spinning and he tried to take another step toward Peter's house.

"Neal stay on the line where coming!" Yelled Peter.

"I can keep the phone on but I don't-"Neal tried to take another step but fell to the ground centimeters short of the front steps, the phone fell from his grip skidding under a bush. All Neal could do was too look backwards, surprised by the bloody trail he had left.

"Who's there?" He heard a voice of an angel he never thought he would see again in the distance, "Oh my! Who?" his world was dark and fading but he felt his hair being brushed from his face, "Neal, no, no, no…Peter you need to get here, its Neal!"

Neal wanted to tell her it was O.K. but his body slipped further down the icy slope to oblivion until it faded to nothing

**Thx for reading! I wanted to tell you that I really do depend on your reviews to alter my writing,so plz review! If you have questions don't hesatate to message me! If you need my excuses for not updating enough vist my site! Love you all!-Emma**


	6. Back to square one again

**Hi everyone! I Love you all for your suportive coments, you all are so sweet! So after a lot of advil, loud music, no sleep for at least 24 hours, and blowing off studying. I pecked away at the keyboard and produced this because I felt so bad for you guys with no chapters! Also I put a poll on my page for your oppinon that would mean so much if you answered! Its about your oppinon on me adding side comments in the story. Also a shout out to morgo7kc for being a awsome Beta, Dont-Eat-My-Pie for the support, plus Holly Short of The Lep recon for giving me a spontaniou ideas for my story by what they said! Also I'm starting a random shout out so, comment, PM and stuff for a chance to be in a shout out!**

Elizabeth was sitting on the couch curled up with a hot cup of tea and a romance novel. Despite all of this there was an empty pit in her stomach that would not cease to bother her. She just wanted Neal to be okay; he was like a son to her. El sighed and put the book on the coffee table. She was about to turn on the TV when she heard a thump outside. It was dark out and she was expecting no one, so she went cautiously to the door and opened it.

"Hello? Who's there?" she asked into the darkness. She looked around before her eyes fell to the ground. There lay a still figure spiraled across the ground. The man was bruised and battered plus blood seemed to cover his whole body. El bent down to get a closer look, brushing the hair out of the man's face. Her heart sped up as she looked into the face she recognized so well. "Neal! No, no, no..." she cried, El fumbled for her phone and dialed speed dial one. "Peter! Its Neal, he's at our front door Peter!"

"What? How... I'll be there with the EMT's in a couple minutes! Hang on El."

The line went dead and El turned back to Neal, she jumped into action quickly running inside and grabbing some towels. She folded one up and placed it under the unconscious young con's head, the others she used to wipe the blood off to find the source of bleeding, which seemed to be everywhere. Neal's breath was shallow and getting fainter by the minute. All El could do was sit there cradling Neal, stroking his hair and trying to stop the bleeding.

Peter drove faster than he had ever driven before, when he got to his house his stomach turned as he pulled in. He saw a trail of blood leading up to his house and the bloody hand print spread across the mailbox. Peter hopped out of the car and ran to the front steps; the sight that greeted him was not a pleasant one. His wife was on the ground holding the broken body of Neal Caffrey; Peter slipped to his knees beside El, moving her aside and taking over holding Neal. Sirens approached in the distance but Peter was transfixed on Neal's still face, it was covered in a mixture of sweat, grime, and blood, his hair was plastered to his face by dried blood that had dripped from a rather nasty glass-covered gash. Even though most of the injuries were old, they were still steadily bleeding. In Peter's life he had learned how much blood was in the human body-and it was a lot-but when the precious crimson life was spilling from your best friend, who is rapidly bleeding out on your side walk, it seems like so much more.

Peter was so transfixed on Neal's face, and was having flashbacks to the dock where Jones and Diana were saved, that he didn't notice the paramedics pushing him aside.

They worked quickly and efficiently, not wasting any time. They loaded Neal into the ambulance and were about to close the door when Peter jumped in. The EMT's tried to argue but Peter flashed his badge, making them submit.

Peter sat next to the unconscious man as the EMT's tried to stabilize him,. He now had an oxygen mask over his face, wires attached to his chest, an IV blood transfusion, and the EMTs were applying compresses and splinting bones. He looked so small on that back board with the neck brace, and all the padding holding him from even moving a centimeter.

As Peter got lost farther in his thoughts he was shocked by the strong death grip he suddenly felt on his wrist. He looked in shock to see Neal looking up at the ceiling with terrified eyes, unaware he was grabbing Peter's wrist. His other hand reached up, and despite the EMTs efforts to stop him, he ripped the mask off his face. He then fumbled at the IV in his arm, trying to rip it out but Peter grabbed his wrist in the same exact grab Neal had him in. Neal eyes locked on Peter with a look of scared confusion.

"P'ter….Sean…he's got a… a…a…-" Neal gasped and his hand started to shake violently on Peter's wrist. Suddenly his eyes closed and his hand fell. The next thing Peter knew the machines around Neal where making a loud continues beep that would not stop.

"Charge to 200, clear!" Neal's body jumped with the electric charge but was still. "Charge to 250, clear! The monitors droned on. "Charge to 300!"

"Chris, he's gon-"

"Do it!" yelled Chris.

The yell of, "clear!" echoed through the ambulance, and like a gift on Christmas morning, there was a beep on the monitor.

Peter, who had been practically having a panic attack the whole time, looked up at the EMT-who he would probably send a holiday card to every year from now on-with grateful eyes. Before he could say a word, they screeched to a halt and Neal was whisked away, and the blur of activity swept him away once again.

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( Just to fill you in quickly)Mozzie Flashback: ( but is it really necessary to tell you it's a flashback I mean you could just figure it out on your own… you know what, I'm going to shut up and just type like the good girl you want me to be… AKA: a girl who updates faster. Oops, I said I was going to shut up, crap.)

He sat on the floor of Tuesday, (If you get that WC reference and tell me I will give you some sort of reward, probably something small, but who knows? I am talking again aren't I?) Alex was next to him on the ground, sobs racking her body. It had been ten minutes since she had come back and so far, Mozzie had not been able to do a damn thing to calm her, (His bedside manner was worse than Peter's.) in fact he had only made it worse. This was now a desperate situation in Mozzie's book, so he did the only possibility. He called Mrs. Suit to pick them up.

After unwillingly giving Mrs. Suit directions to Tuesday (Which would now "not exist"), he and Alex had waited for her to come. When she arrived, she had made him drive while calming Alex and dragging the horrible story of the video and everything else, that had happened out of her. They had divided a plan for money in the backseat in low whispers, before giving him instructions and leaving him in the dark. "Typical women," he thought as he left the car where Alex was yelling rather threatening things over her cell at assets.

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It had been eighteen hours since Neal had arrived at the hospital, and Jones had tried to stay awake for the whole time: keyword, tried. He had barely been able to keep his eyes open from all the sedatives they had insisted, to a testy Diana, were "necessary to keep his mental stability." Like hell they were. They had been pumping more into him every hour since he had gotten there, and he just wanted it to stop. Morphine alone was enough to keep him under but this was just overkill. He was now coming to again and he watched wearily as a nurse stood above him, checking his eyes and monitors. Now, she was about to inject more sedatives into the IV port. "Ahhhhhhhh!" Jones's ragged scream flew out of of his mouth, burning his traumatized windpipe on the way up, and he clutched his stomach.

The nurse dropped the syringe in confusion; it shattered on the floor. Jones's scream died, and his face broke out into a sweat, his breathing rapid. He saw Diana jump off her bed, despite the nurse's protest, and was able to make her way over before collapsing at the edge of Jones's bed on to her knees. Pain engulfed him and his vision swam. He felt himself convulse; suddenly he had no control over his body. He felt himself writhe while hands tried to hold him down. Monitors beeped wildly, it was too much. The last thing Jones remembered was the metallic rusted taste of blood as it came from his stomach and spilled from his mouth to the floor.

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Peter had been sitting in the hospital waiting room for far too long, his hands and clothes were caked in blood that was not even his and he had not slept in at least 24 hours. His head buzzed with Neal's words before he flat lined, he was going to tell him about something Sean had. But what was it?

Peter was jerked out of his thoughts from a terrible scream that protruded from Diana and Jones's room. Peter instinctively reached for his gun and realized it was confiscated at the front desk, (the hotheaded nurse had said that if he had a security detail he didn't need it to look like a "bad-ass government person." Peter now almost hated hospitals as much as Mozzie). He ran toward the room but was stonewalled by that EMT from the ambulance. Peter tried to shove him to the side but he was pushed back into the wall.

"Agent Burke?" the man gasped while struggling to keep Peter pinned or just from slugging him, "I need you to sit down or I will have to sedate you." Peter realized he was dead serious when he looked down and saw a syringe in the man's hand.

Breathless Peter slumped into the chair next to him in defeat, and looked up at the man. Now he knew why they had taken his gun. "So you work as a EMT and a doctor?" Peter asked in a bemused tone.

"Your director assigned me to do all over-seeing of your agents' health in the field and out," he stated, "I just got a toxicology report back and its seems your bad guy had a fallback plan to his fallback plan. He laced the the sedative with the toxin from the plant nightshade, its neurotoxin that is meant to kill. This person wanted these agents dead, bad. Fortunately we caught it in the nick of time, Agent Jones was in a weak state and…" a nurse that emerged from Jones's room, handed him a note, "the poison attacked him caused severe abdominal pain before he had a seizures, vomited blood on the floor and passed out. The blood was probably left over from our fixing his internal bleeding but if it's coming up that's not good." he said in a bored, matter-of-fact way, as if everyone sees this every day.

"Are they OK? Is Sea- I mean Ryker going after them?"

"You're the law expert, you tell me."

Peter knew that Sean was just doing this to complicate things, "The best things have been done in solitude, the worst in turmoil -Thomas Edison." Peter heard Mozzie's voice ring threw his head, crap; he had been hanging out with that man way too much for his liking."

"So what's the verdict umm...Dr…"

"Dr. Chris Warner, we'll put them on the antidote but the side effects are weakness and not thinking clearly. If it helps, we see this a lot when criminals don't want there victims talking right away."

"OK… how's Neal's condition?" And as if on cue, a bed carrying Neal came around the corner. At least Peter thought it was Neal. He lay there with his eyes closed, and he, like Jones, was naked except for Peter assumed his boxers because a blanket covered him from waste down. His body was covered with bruises that looked nastier than Diana and Jones's. He was covered with a number of monitors and an IV connected to a bag of blood and other liquids he could not identify, and of course a nasal canal.

"Mr. Caffrey suffered fractures to multiple bones, broken ribs, internal bleeding, a bullet wound to the left shoulder, a punctured lung, multiple sever concussions, skull fracture, and many banged up organs in general. It is amazing he is still in one piece, he should be dead." Dr. Warner stated bluntly, Peter was not really taking a liking to this guy and was rethinking sending him a Christmas card.

He watched as Neal was wheeled into the same room as Diana and Jones. Traditionally there were only two patients to a room, but this was a special case. As he was about to walk in, his cell rang.

"Hello," he answered.

"Petey," came the voice over the phone.

"You got the money, I got all my agents, now leave us alone!" Peter hissed

"No, Petey, you don't understand. Neal was mine, not yours, and frankly I am losing my sense of humor over this. Agent Burke you do not want me to lose my sense of humor over this, because things will get very ugly. If you think I'm twisted now, you just wait." Sean hissed in an icy voice.

Peter was taken aback by the man's anger, what had Neal done?

"Oh, by the way, your agent is going to call you to tell you he found the place I kept your agents in 3….2…1…BANG! Oops, my bad…scratch that." Then the line went dead.

Peter did not know how fast he drove to the site where shots were fired, but he made a 30-minute trip in 5 minutes…during rush hour. When he got there, all the agents were in full out, if-anyone-taps-me-on-the-shoulder-I-won't-hesitate-to-turn-and-shoot, paranoia mode. He saw a man sitting on a crate, cradling his hand while others tried to stop the bleeding.

Peter ran over, shoving people out of the way to get to the agent. He stared in horror at the clean through-and-through bullet hole in the man's hand. He wasted no time taking gauze from the nearby first aid kit, wrapping the man's hand in it, and laying him on the ground to wait for the paramedics. Then he continued on to the building behind him, the building where his agents were kept just blocks from his house.

As he walked inside he saw a main room and a hallway leading off with two doors at either end. He did not even want to check the rooms out, he knew what he would find. Instead, he walked over to a nearby techie.

"There was a security video left for you, I think Ryker wanted you to see it." The techie said before sitting Peter down with a laptop, and pressing play.

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"You're telling me, he just disappeared?" Sean asked his goons in disbelief. He stared at the wall with a look of total shock on his face. He ran his hand through his blond hair, messing up some of his styling he worked so hard on, but he did not care now.

"Were so-rry- b-b-boss," whimpered Dumb. (He had not bothered learning their names he just called them Dumb and Dumber in which ever order he felt like that day.)

"Your hiding something from, me spit it out." Sean stated in a monotone voice.

"Someone moved the blueprints," blurted Dumber, or it could've been Dumb, he did not care. "Are you mad?"

"No," Sean said before quickly turning on the heels of his red Converse's and two gunshots rang out.

He stood there, breathing heavily. "Great," he hissed as he looked at his blood-spattered clothes, then to the dead bodies on the floor with bullet holes in between their eyes, "Well it was worth it." He chuckled to himself. Then he sighed as he stripped off his clothes, leaving him in his boxers, he grabbed a white Tee shirt, a pair of worn jeans, and then paused as he examined his red Converse's. The blood had sunk into the color perfectly, making it not even noticeable. He smiled and put them back on, then got to work preparing.

He quickly went outside set up an assault rifle and got down to business.

Sean Christopher Ryker was many things; an orphan that lived on the streets as a child, a killer, a kidnapper, a thief, a sociopath, and he was proud of every one of them. Or so he thought, as he drove toward Downtown New York Hospital at top speed.

When he got there he wiped the sweat that was collecting on his forehead away and grabbed a grenade out of his glove apartment, before making a neat homemade explosive that he was rather proud of. He looked over his contraption which was a grenade taped to the seat, leading to a string tied to the pin and a cell phone set on vibrate, weirdly perched on the end of the seat. It was simple: he calls the number, cell vibrates, falls off seat, pulls string, string pulls pin, and boom.

When he was a safe distance away he called, and slipped into a side room to dress in scrubs before he heard the satisfying sound of taking a parking garage apart in seconds. He smiled as he slipped a mask over his face and proceeded to slip into the hallway of the ICU. Sean Christopher Ryker was on his A-game.

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Diana scrubbed her skin with the wash cloth they had given her after Jones had puked blood on her. "Uck, just, uck." Diana looked at Jones as his eyelids fluttered open. He rolled onto his side to face Diana with a confused look. "You had a seizure and puked blood, on top of me because I was trying to help you, I might add."

"Sorry," said Jones meekly.

"All is forgiven since you weren't the one to poison us."

"We were- oh that bastard."

Diana was about to let out a piece of her mind and a string of very colorful language about Sean, but just then the door was opened and in rolled a face she thought she would never see again. The nurse shoved Neal's bed between Diana's and Jones's bed, hooked him up to some machines before leaving the room. With three beds, they had only centimeters of room from each other, Diana and Jones locked eyes before Diana reached a hand out to Jones who grasped it from across Neal. Then they both grabbed one of Neal's hands too. Diana looked at Neal's pale, pained face and tears began to fall freely from her face. Jones had his face buried in his blanket but she knew he was crying too, as they lay there holding hands, not wanting to lose anyone again.

It was later in the day and Peter had left for another "Sean emergency". There was rain pounding at the windows. Diana and Jones sat there childishly playing cards. This would be OK if they were not using Neal as a table.

"Got any fours?"

"For the last time, NO, GO FISH," said Diana to Jones as he grumbled and reached for a card. She slumped back and let her head hit her pillow; she was so tired but they said she had to keep conscious. God, she wished that this poison would get pumped out of her faster.

"You OK?" Jones asked and she shot him a look that said I-know-you-feel-the-same. Jones sighed and flopped back on his pillow, leaving his cards on top of the sleeping Neal.

"Did Christie come to visit while I was, well, out of it? asked Jones, the exhaustion finally showing in his voice.

"No, she is out in DC, I doubt she has been informed about t-"

Just then, there was a loud bang of thunder and the con beside them opened his blue eyes with a jolt. He sat up with haste and ripped the nasal canal that was over his nose. His eyes looked around the room. his breathing fast.

Diana grabbed his wrist the same way Peter had done and practically screamed, "Neal look at me! We're OK, you're OK! This is a hospital."

(Neal POV)

Neal nodded in understanding before he tried to lay back on his pillow but was stopped by a shudder of pain. Jones grasped his back (for Diana's wrist was broken, if you do not remember) and lowered him gingerly onto his pillow.

"W'ter," Neal croaked, his throat feeling like sandpaper.

Diana reached for an extra glass at the edge of her bed, filled it with water then held it to Neal's lips as he gingerly took a sip, wetting his dry throat.

"Neal, what happened to you?" Diana pressed.

"Give me a minute," Neal said, not feeling quite enough morphine flowing through his system for his liking. "Tell me what happened to you first."

Diana told her side of the story in length, from waking up on the boat, to the hospital.

When she finished, Neal was so flabbergasted, all he could think of saying was: "Jones, you seriously flipped out when everyone realized I wasn't there? A small smile appeared on his face.

"Well," said Jones blushing and trying to put his words together, "The paramedics and the lights, plus, come on, I just had freakin' drowned to death. It was too much, sue me! But I really want to hear your side of the story."

(And yes, I am going to type Neal's side because I rather enjoyed that part.)

"When I really came to, you were being injected. Apparently Sean decided that I had to have a different execution fate after he sent you to off, so he wanted me acutely aware." At this, a shiver ran through Neal at the memory. Just keeping awake and talking was draining all the energy from his system, but he continued, "He put us in the van; you guys were so out of it!" Neal laughed at this but regretted it for a shock of pain streaked through him.

"We drove to the dock; I tried to get you both near me but I was only managed to get you, Jones, and the pervert bastard had Diana on his lap."

Diana gave a look of disgust, and Jones looked like he was going to kill someone.

"After they took you guys I was taken to the warehouse that turned out to be near Peter's house…. After that I stole a wire out of a cell phone holder, picked the lock, got out to the Burkes' house, and that's all I remember.

"Well it's been a whole 24 hours since Elizabeth found you, you're lucky-"

Just then a loud bang rattled the room and the security outside went into turmoil. However, something clicked in Neal's brain at the sound; he gritted his teeth in pain as the memory surfaced in his battered brain.

Blueprints, he could see them, words flew everywhere: C4, detonator, building…what building? Oh yeah, New York FBI building.

When it clicked Neal screamed it out loud, "Sean's going to blow up the FBI tomorrow, we where a distraction from the real event! I saw blueprints, he is got to mad as hell! I have to, to, to-…"

Neal had no energy left in his body; he was drifting now, but was painfully brought back to reality by a doctor yelling at Diana and Jones for not telling him Neal was awake, and for upsetting him.

"Dr. Warner, Neal may have information vital to national security!" yelled Diana who was also losing energy fast.

Yah…" muttered Jones who was losing the battle with sleep even faster.

"Most patients in both of your conditions should still be sedated now, but the FBI wants you awake for security reasons! So if you want to stay that way I suggest that you don't order me around about my patients!" snapped Dr. Chris Warner.

He was so busy yelling he did not notice the nurse in scrubs behind him, Neal tried to warn him but it was too late. The nurse behind him grabbed Dr. Warner and twisted his neck; with a sickening crunch, he fell motionless to the floor.

The nurse swiftly pulled off his mask, revealing a dazzling smile to match the green eyes and fly away blond hair, then produced a 9mm handgun from behind his back, "Miss me, kiddies?" he quipped.

Diana opened her mouth to scream and Jones reached for the nurse call button, and Neal let out a tyrant of slurred swears. However, Sean cocking the gun silenced them.

"The guards are gone checking out that little show I put on in the garage and if you try anything I will not hesitate to shoot." Sean said seriousness coming over him, "Now you two shackle yourself to the bed," he said, throwing Diana and Jones two pairs of handcuffs.

Reluctantly, they handcuffed themselves to their beds. Only then did Sean approach and take some gauze, stuff it in both their mouths individually, then secure it with medical tape. When that was done, he threw his mask back on and took out a syringe of sedative, which he injected into Neal's neck.

Neal tried to say something or at least scream but the sedative was too strong and he felt his aching body fall into a restless sleep.

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Jones stared in horror as Sean disappeared around the corner with Neal in tow. He was so tired but had to stay awake. Suddenly from beside him he heard the click of handcuffs opening. He looked over, stunned, at Diana who had her hands free and was tearing the tape off her mouth before going over to him and painfully ripping the tape off his mouth. Jones coughed out the gauze then turned to Diana "How?"

"Listen," Diana said, hurriedly pulling a syringe she had been holding behind her back, and began to pick Jones's handcuffs. "You don't spend weekend stakeouts with Neal Caffrey without at least learning how to pick a lock, pick a pocket, and forge a fake ID."

"Oh," said Jones rubbing his wrists where the handcuffs had dug in, while watching Diana rummage through the cabinets and overnight bag Elizabeth had left. She protruded with a white T-shirt, sneakers and jeans for Jones, a pair of surgical scrubs and a pair of clothes after for her, plus a load of medical supplies.

"May I ask, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK WE ARE DOING?" Jones almost screamed.

"We are escaping from this place to save Neal."

"Are you kidding, I can't even stand without crutches and with our health even jogging is a no-go! Look at you, you need to stop every five minutes to keep yourself standing, and we are still fighting poison in our body! We can't do anything!" Jones pointed out.

Diana turned to Jones and retorted, "In this turmoil we won't get help in time. I don't know about you, but if he dies I won't have the thought of me doing nothing weighing on me." Then she walked over to Jones and injected him with a liquid that sent a jolt of energy down him.

"What was that, pure caffeine?" asked Jones.

"It's like epinephrine except long lasting and I think I packed enough of that and painkillers to keep us mobile for now." She ripped the IV out of her arm, then before he could protest, she ripped his out too.

"Oww! Can't we wait for Peter?" cringed Jone,s holding his wrist, where the IV use to be.

"It will be too late," said Diana, throwing Jones's clothes at him. "Close your eyes I have to change," she commanded.

Jones squeezed his eyes shut, knowing if he tried to peaked he wouldn't come out of that coma for months.

When she told him to open his eyes he looked at her in the scrubs with the wheelchair for him, a pair of crutched, and a bag with medicine and extra clothes. He the looked at his clothes and with realization turned bright red.

"What is it?" snapped Diana.

"Ummm…I can't exactly get dressed on my own."

"Okay, okay," groaned Diana, "you're at least wearing boxers, right?"

Jones nodded and turned even redder.

Soon Diana was wheeling Jones down the hallway in her scrubs. To anyone from the outside they looked like a doctor pushing a patient to be discharged and nothing more. On the inside, they were desperately trying to save their friend.

Diana took a sharp corner before arriving at the basement leading to the garage, she parked the wheel chair and handed Jones his crutches and the overnight bag with supplies. Then she drew a gun from beneath her pant leg.

"Woah, when did you get that?" Jones asked in shock.

"When you were unconscious," replied Diana. Just then a sound came from in the garage. "Stay here," commanded Diana.

"With pleasure," muttered Jones as she disappeared around the corner. He stood for a moment feeling lonely, and was about to go after her when he felt a foot kick his crutches from under him. He fell to the ground but a pair of strong arms caught him as one held him tight around the chest and the other covered his nose and mouth.

"If you wanted to come along you could have asked," whispered a ice cold voice in his ear, "it would have been a lot easier for me."

At the sound of the voice behind him Jones reared back, throwing all his weight into his attacker, taking Sean by surprise and knocking him into some medical supplies, making them go flying.

"Well," said the irritated tone, "we're going to have to make it look more like a bloody kidnapping now won't we?" Jones barely heard this as his air-deprived body fought for consciousness. The last thing he saw was Sean taking his hand and slicing it with a knife, making blood drip to the floor. Jones tried to scream but with the weighing factors of a cracked trachea, and the lack of oxygen, nothing came out before he once again-adding to the way too many times-passed out.

**DUN DUN DUN! I'm evil I know :P So plz answer the poll on my profile and reviews are LOVED they make my hand heal faster, I lie no they don't but a girl can dream! LOVE U ALL-Emma**


	7. Why is the world so cruel?

**Hey everyone! I know you want to kill me for how long this took but forgive me my computer got a virus! And today is my 14th Birthday so I stayed up to make this happen just for you all cuz I thought you deserved it! My present from you can be reviews! or to own white collar (*Cough _Jeff Easton_ Cough*)! So a shout out to Morgo7kc for being a awesome beta! Don't-Eat-My-Pie for being great! plus amblue36_ FOR BEING THE ONLY REVIEWER_ (*Cough cough*) and I'm srry but my PM's got deleted and that other person who contacted me I can't find your name plz tell me! hope you like it!**

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Diana stood in the middle of a destroyed parking garage. Sounds of police sirens echoed from a few stories above her and dust was settled everywhere. In conclusion, Sean had done a number on this place.

Diana felt sharp bolts of pain shooting through every part of her body; her head was reeling and her focus was slipping from her. However, overall she was confused. The sound had come from the garage, but yet there was no one in sight. Suddenly there was a crash from back where she came from. Quickly turning on her heels (ignoring the pain it caused her) she ran toward the crash. When she got there her mind flashed back to so many of the scenes she had seen over the last few days. Blood on the floor and signs of a struggle. There was a click, and she didn't need to look far for the source of all this. She looked and up like in a horror movie there stood Sean on the other end of the hall, a gun cocked in one hand aimed at a figure lying limply supported by his other arm. Diana gasped as she noticed the unmistakable orange cast on Jones's leg.

"Now this is how it's going to work, you are going to kick your gun to me, turn around, and then put your hands on your head," Sean said with an angry voice.

Diana wanted to resist, but Sean unceremoniously jabbed the gun into Jones's neck making her oblige. She winced at the pain and fatigue that pummeled her as she leaned over to put the gun on the ground, but she fought it off and turned around with her hands on her head.

Only then did Sean holster his gun and approach Diana, he bent over and began to frisk her, a little to thoroughly in her opinion. He also talked as he worked:

"Really this wasn't in my plan, why couldn't you two let it be, stay in bed or just scream? However, I can say improvising is my thing! I didn't get the lead role in my middle school play for nothing! Just kidding I was kicked out of school in fifth grade for lighting my classroom on fire, you _try_ making me learn pronouns, Mrs. Berry... I learned all my knowledge from the streets."

"Explains a lot," Diana muttered, the comment earning her a jab with the gun in her back. Sean continued to work in silence as he used one hand to hold the gun to her back and the other to work his way along her waistline. She winced as he came upon the scalpel for protection and a syringe of morphine (she had brought it along for Jones but was thinking she needed it right now.) she had tucked in her waistband.

"I must say you come prepared," mused Sean as he tossed the supplies aside and finished up by running his hand on the outside then the inside of Diana's leg making her squirm. "That was very interesting but you get to go to sleep now," said Sean pulling a syringe from his pocket and testing it to make sure it was in working order.

Suddenly Diana felt a flare of rage kick up from deep within her; all fear went numb and was replaced with pure hatred and a strong instinct to protect everyone she loved.

With one fluid motion she quickly turned bringing her arm up and was rewarded with the feeling of her elbow hitting solid flesh or to be more exact: point blank in Sean's face. A swear came from Sean but Diana continued spinning and kicked the gun right out of his hand, making it go spinning and fall to the ground on the opposite side of the hall.

Diana wasted no time getting up and running into the parking garage, her lungs burning with every breath, legs in pure agony, and...well everything hurt. Just as she reached the first car she was caught off guard by a blow from behind and she and Sean went flying into the nearest over-turned car. Sean jumped on top of her immediately trying to restrain her but she punched blindly, getting a good hit to his gut. It stunned him for a second as she scrambled to her feet, but Sean's hand shot up, grabbing her wrist and pulling her painfully back on top of him. Then he immediately braced himself against the car, rapping her torso in his arms with a tight grip, pinning her arms to her sides, and scissoring his legs around hers to stop her from kicking.

She found herself utterly trapped but in desperation, thrust her head backwards trying to head butt him. Sean of course saw this coming and moved his head to the side just in time resulting in Diana slamming her head at full force into the car behind her. Normally she would have shaken it off but with her already existing skull fractures and concussion, a haze surrounded her. She never actually passed out but everything was ringing and moving as she felt herself be dragged to a car, a pair of handcuffs forcing her hands behind her and buckling her in before locking the door. Diana tried to move but it was futile. She hurt way too bad and her hands couldn't reach the lock anyway. Soon she gave up and her eyes closed. She didn't even hear him come back or the car start to drive away.

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Clinton Jones had not felt so much pain in his life before three days ago. Hell, four days ago, he had been laughing it up at a bar with Diana on a glorious Sunday night. Making wise cracks about Neal and Peter, until they too had showed up after closing a large case and then all four of them made fun of Hughes. Just twelve hours after that they were in a world of pain. They were Happy at 9:00PM, and wishing everything would stop at 9:00 AM. Hostage for 36 hours, then bam! You are saved, on the road to recovery for 24 precious hours before it all falls apart, again. Really, the world just sucks in that way, or that is what came to Jones's mind as he started to float up from the murky depths of his subconscious.

He felt rather comfortable. There were warm sheets around him and a fluffy pillow behind his head. However, his face twitched as he felt some discomforts: first, there was the metallic feeling digging into his wrists. In addition, this did not feel like his bed, nor was he in his Batman pajamas or had the familiar sound of the city life streaming in from the streets below.

His eyes flew open, and a gasp and a slight yelp tried to escape his throat but failed because of the sticky tape covering his mouth. He took in his surroundings realizing he was back in a strange room. He looked to his side to see two other figures dozing away in separate beds. Tape covered his mouth, his hands were handcuffed to the side of the bed, and he almost tried to scream again, when he saw the blood soaking the side of his bed. He shook as he turned his hand over and saw a deep long wound exposed on the flesh. It was a gruesome raged cut, and bile rose in his throat as he saw his own torn flesh and muscle having a spasm under the stress of the extreme pain.

Trying to ignore the pain, Jones tried soaking up every detail of the room, trying to figure out where they were. He saw they were oddly in a brightly-lit room with blinding sunlight coming through a window, and white washed walls. The beds they lay on were plain twin size beds with nothing special. His eyes wandered to Neal. First he saw that Neal was still in his hospital gown, bound to the bed in a similar fashion as Jones. The young man took shallow breaths; sweat covered his usually perfect hair; there was blood on his sheets where the stitches were ripped. Plus, off antibiotics, he was sure Neal was bound to have complications. Bottom line: he was not in good shape. Next, he saw Diana. His eyes widened as he saw the newest bruises forming in splotches across her face and on her exposed skin.

It suddenly clicked, "Oh my god, we were taken again and statistics show that 90% of victims are dead after 36 hours, so the chances of us getting out two times are, are…" Even thinking hurt. Besides, it was depressing.

Diana and Neal being there, the pain emanating from his hand, and the guilt from not being there for Diana and for letting Sean get the better of him, it was all too much, and this is when the tears began to flow full force. Jones was not much of a crying type but this time he sobbed. The hot, wet tears flowed from his eyes in wet drops falling onto his hurt hand, making the pain more intense, in turn making him cry harder. His gag muffled his sobs but he was close to hysterical. He felt like a kid again when he had fallen out of that tree and broken both legs. He had lay there for hours crying before someone found him and he hoped it would never happen again.

He was trying to stop when he heard a creak of the door opening, and in walked nobody other than Sean. "You know if someone did not start crying I would think I was doing a suckish job," he laughed, then he walked over and stood by Jones's bed. "Ok, here's the deal, I'll take your restraints off, but if you try anything, I will hurt you, then them," said Sean, gesturing to the sleeping or unconscious (he had no idea which, either way he wanted them to wake up badly) forms of Neal and Diana, lying in their own beds across from him.

Jones then turned back to Sean, nodding slowly and obediently. He hated the idea of obeying this monster but at this point, he had no choice. Sean visibly relaxed and reached down quickly unlocking the handcuffs. Jones reached for the tape at his mouth and immediately tore it off.

"Now, don't be too loud or you'll wake the others and that's when the fun begins," smirked Sean with a twisted glint in his eye.

"Why?" whispered Jones meekly in a hoarse voice.

"Well I only planned to take Neal but when you two followed. It was easier to take out three birds with one stone; I took Neal, came back and took you out next, then Miss. Diana put up quite a fight…" He pulled back the front of his collar to reveal a large nasty bruise extending from his neck to what seemed to be all the way down his torso from the way he held his body gingerly, "but in the end her head and a car didn't mix well."

As he finished he walked over to Diana and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. This made Jones sit up in bed quickly and a protective growl involuntarily slipped out of his mouth.

Sean just smirked, turning, and grabbed a chair, pulling it up next to Jones's bed. "So anymore questions, concerns, comments?"

"I want to talk to Peter," said Jones, all of the fight drained from his voice.

Sean sat there for a moment pondering the discussion before a smile spread across his face. "I'll let you talk to him, but now let's get the others up." He stood took yet another syringe from his pocket and swiftly turned to Neal, sticking the needle in his arm.

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Neal had never really been put in dangerous situations. Sure he had been kidnapped two times, tasered in the process of that once, forced to disarm a bomb, had a gun pointed at him multiple times, the air sucked out of the room, and well, taken hostage by people who had no problem pulling the trigger. However, overall, this had to be the worst of it all by a long shot.

He hurt, again. Over the past couple days the only time he didn't hurt was when he wasn't conscious. Now all the pain came to him as his eyes fluttered. With a cough and a painful effort his eyes opened, and in front of him was a sight he would like to punch. Sean leaned over him, using a penlight in his eyes to check his reflexes. When he saw Neal was fully awake and responsive, Sean tore the tape from his mouth and his shackles were undone.

This made a small painful laugh escape Neal's parched lips, "What's so funny?" asked Sean, pausing.

"From the looks of it, it seems like you are actually caring for my well being," laughed Neal, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Sean just put a hand roughly on Neal's recently stitched up shoulder, pushing him even father back on his bed, smirking as Neal flinched away in pain. " Neal, Neal, Neal, I like you as much as I like spinach…I hate it, but in a good-natured way. It would give me no pleasure in letting my leverage die just yet. I need you fully coherent because I have been very annoyed with Peter for his attitude. So before we start my fun new plan…let us make a nice video for Peter, shall we?"

Adrenaline started to pump through Neal's system at that sound. "I'm not going anywhere," Neal managed to growl in his most confident voice.

"Awww," teased Sean, "Even when you're trying to act mad, it still reminds me of a kicked puppy!"

"Well you look like a puppy but the difference is I would actually kick you," Jones added, coming to Neal's defense from his bed across the room.

"I am really starting to not like you," quipped Sean, standing up and turning to Jones before marching over, and to Neal's horror, punching Jones square in the jaw. An anguished scream came from Jones. However, despite it all, Neal was concentrated on the bed next to Jones's, the one Sean had his back too. Suddenly his heart jumped as a foot came from behind, aimed for Sean's back. But Neal was disappointed as Sean quickly reached back, grabbing the leg and turning to revile a struggling Diana who was desperately trying to slip her cuffs.

"I had a feeling that you were awake", he said, taking the tape off her mouth. Then to Neal's udder disgust, he planted a quick, rough kiss on her lips. If Neal had the strength, he would march over there right then and beat the man to a pulp.

Nevertheless, he didn't even have to think about it because of the torrent of swears that came streaming from Diana. Neal decided that the colorful language she was using (he was even learning new stuff he did not think he ever needed or cared to repeat) was plenty.

"No matter what you say it was worth it," smirked Sean, "no hard feelings it was just pay back. For all my newly developed bruises that you contributed to me getting."

"Go to fucking hell," growled Diana.

"Trust me, you will be there sooner than me," said Sean, "Now Clinton here, has convinced me that I should let you talk to Agent Burke and I'm going to get the camera set up." As Sean left he tossed the key for the handcuffs to Diana, and then bolted the door.

"We'll have to try to escape. I'll draw his attention and you two can escape; it's not perfect but…" Diana cut herself short while unlocking her cuffs. They all knew what it really meant: "I'll sacrifice myself for you two because it's better than all of us dying."

"I'll do it." said Neal, breaking the silence, "he wants me more, I'll stay."

"But-" started Jones in protest.

"No, you two signed up to help people. I'm here because I did the opposite… allegedly of course," Neal said, trying to lighten the mood with no success.

After a long moment of silence Neal continued, "I won't let you two down." Neal looked out the window and saw a boat, expensive houses, and a lighthouse. Very good land marks. His brain clicked as the plan formed and with that, Neal smiled one of his million-dollar-smiles for the first time in a long time. "I have a plan." Diana and Jones looked at him with confusion but any time for questions ended as Sean walked back in.

"Ready for round two?" He asked.

Neal swallowed hard, preparing himself for what he was about to do.

* * *

**Dun Dun Duh! so review, PM me! Also I'll be at summer camp couple weeks end of July beginning of August. So if you are dying to find out what happens PM me and I'll personally set you up with a preview! LOVE U ALL! EMMA**


	8. Desperate times and desprate messures

**Hey every one! I know I have not updated and that is because the world hates me, hurracaine Irene knoked out my elctricy for a week, school started, and my mom broken her foot so its been delay after stupid delay. oh well.**

**I would like to shout out to esperanza labyrinth for stalkerishly commenting alot...see you in homeroom girl! :). Tomb8y1084629, ****Musiclovesbest, **Crestfallenfeline, Ashlin Night, Pechika, avidreader, **for being awsome! Morogo7kc for awsome beta! and lastly Audrey 2 for giving me a real kick in the ass start after I had almost given up... If you have and acount I would love to hear from you I'm interested about that dream you had... **

**Well your bored by now and barley any of you actially read this so. Have fun! also have a heart just put one of these guys names in the serch engine and see what they have to offer really I read everyone who reviewed work and these guys have serious talent!**

Peter chugged the last remnants of his coffee, tossing his third cup that hour to the side. His eyes were bleary from watching, then fast-forwarding, then rewinding, and pausing the footage (which had been doctored to take out all of the parts that Sean thought weren't "fun") from the warehouses where his three agents were held. He had stayed focused through all the pain that narcissistic bastard had caused them, through all the yelling, swearing, bleeding, crying, and whispers of false hope.

He took a deep breath and pressed play again. The screen continued to play in the cell where he watched Diana and Jones's drugged forms being dragged, along with Neal who was struggling in Sean's grasp and then…..Nothing.

_No, this cannot be it. There has to be more, there has to-_ Peter's thoughts stopped. There was sound of a voice on screen. Peter looked up quickly to see Sean. His breath caught in his throat. No shine shown in the kid's eyes; his face was serious; there was a deadly glint in his eye now, and what disturbed Peter the most was the blood. It was coating Sean's hands, streaked up his arms, trace amounts smudged on his face. Most disturbing was the fine mist in his hair, making it shimmer a golden ruby color in the light. Peter shivered at the thought of a person so young (what 27 year old is) being so twisted and disturbed.

"I assume by now your people have done a full sweep of the building and found the two bodies I left; really, I didn't hide them that hard." Peter glanced up to the ME zipping two body bags from the bodies of Sean's two hench men. They had found them in a closet an hour before; nobody cared too much though. It only meant Sean was going from planned and methodical to unstable and desperate.

"At this point I can't say what my plan is except that I'm flying solo. I will admit I kidnapped your agents for a distraction from my real plan, but now that plan has taken backseat from them paying for the setbacks and damage they have caused me. They will pay in physical pain and you, in emotional." Peter's blood ran cold—no it was frozen by now—when Sean reached over, grabbed a duffle bag, and made a show of placing some scrubs, a syringe, and a gun in the bag before flinging it over his shoulder. "By the time you get this, Peter, it will be to late. There's nothing you could have done. This is Sean Ryker, signing off." He mocked a salute before the screen went black.

Suddenly the sound around Peter dimmed, the edges of his vision blurred, and all his nerves went numb. He did not feel his body shoot up, laptop flying from his lap and shattering on the floor. He did not hear the surprised sounds of the agents. All he could register was his feet running, and running fast. In the back of his mind he knew he could get to the hospital quicker on foot. He whipped around a corner of the building, dodging some probes, unable to hear there cries of confusion and surprise, jumped the police tape, surprisingly clearing it, (and in the back of his mind thanking high school track). His feet pounded across the ground as he burst through surprised civilians, but the only thing he could do was run and run to his destination.

When Peter reached the hospital he was met by police and SWAT cars. A stern-looking SWAT member blocked his way, gun in hand, and said a typical "Nothing to see here, sir," stopping Peter in his tracks.

"I'm a FBI agent," Peter practically yelled in despair, flashing his credentials.

"There was a controlled explosion in the building. We don't think it was terrorism, but three high priority FBI patients went MIA from the ICU one hour ago."

"They were FBI? Those were my agents!" Peter was screaming now, drawing the attention of all the Feds in the area. "LET ME IN!" he yelled. With a burst of courage Peter shoved the SWAT member over, right onto the ground. Before anyone could react, he started to run again until he arrived at the place he wanted to be. He whipped at top speeds around the corner to the security room, grasping the door to slow his momentum.

"FBI! I need the video from room 117 ICU now!" Peter said with immense authority, allowing himself a small feeling of pleasure as the kid (who didn't look a day over 21) cowered from him. He fumbled with the computer, pulling up the footage and rewinding about one hour. He then played it, watching scenes unfold.

The first image was of Diana and Jones playing cards…and using Neal as a table. Usually Peter would laugh, but no; it just made him want them back even more. It was calm until Neal woke panicking. Peter was glad that he was awake but he guessed it didn't matter now. Neal seemed to calm until something shook the camera, and he freaked out yelling. The doctor, Chris, came in yelling, then a nurse walked up behind him. Peter thought it could be any nurse, except there were glints of red where a pair of tell-tale convers stuck out beneath his scrubs. He wanted to scream like in a horror movie and yell, "RUN!". He watched in horror as Sean snapped the doctors neck and pulled out a gun. Slowly the three agents cooperated, and to Peter's confusion, he tied up Diana and Jones.

_Didn't they say three were taken? Well he had to just keep watching. _Peter watched as they escaped their handcuffs, and to Peter's surprise, Diana started to dress. Jones seemed to resist before going with it. To his amusement Diana had to help Jones dress and then they left. He was about to continue, but suddenly the feed went black.

"What's happening? Fix it!" Peter demanded, but before the kid could move, an Internet link came on screen. Peter hesitated for a second, but heard yells in the distance looking for him. He drew in a breath and clicked.

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Neal felt weak and uncomfortable sitting on the concrete floor of what he assumed was this house's basement. The pain wasn't the worst part; it was the nerves. What if his plan didn't work? What if Sean found out what he was doing? The man had a temper, but the worst part was the forth coming. He sat there, hands tied behind his back and feet bound. He was` kneeling on the floor execution style, as where Diana and Jones. They were painfully aware of this fact as they knelt, unmoving.

Sean stood in front of them with his usual laptop, and set up of tripod and camera, muttering to himself in muffled tones.

"You know, you don't have to talk to yourself to prove you have lost it."

"Miss Barrigan, we both know that my actual sanity left long ago, and I like it better this way. You don't have to care about people. Also I hope that comment was worth it; you just earned yourself the place to go first," Sean droned, glancing up from the computer screen casually.

Diana lifted her chin up with pride. "Yes it was," she said bravely, earning her small admiring looks from Neal and Jones.

"Enough chit-chat out of you three or I'll get the bat," said Sean in a scolding tone.

The three sat in silence for about a minute before a beep came from the laptop. "Petey has arrived! Aren't you excited?"

Sean jumped in front of the camera before pressing play from a remote hooked on his belt.

"Heyyyyy Petey," Sean cooed, "glad you could join us. Now first thing first, the IP is untraceable so don't try to track me. And stay online; what happens here doesn't repeat live again!"

Sean glanced back at Neal, cueing him. Neal took a deep breath then started, hoping it would work. "Peter, I just wanted to say all of our goodbyes. First from me, I have some money hidden behind the painting in the back of my apartment. Use it to buy El that nice big house on—was it Long Island?—right on the water. You know, the white one with the steps out front made of brick. From Jones, he wants to remind you how much fun us all had bird watching. You always loved the robins. Last from Diana, she wants you to go take Christy to her favorite lighthouse on her birthday. I hope you got this all, Peter. We love you, goodbye."

He drew a breath in, trying not to notice the weird looks he was getting from Diana and Jones for all the false info he had added, and he had to pray that Peter got the message.

Sean stepped forward again, "Touching, and now as an extra touch too that they die." Neal froze as he looked up in shock. He only had time to close his eyes before the gunshots emanated in the room.

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"—they die." Peter felt his heart stop for a moment as the screen went blank, but not before three distinct gunshots were heard.

At the same moment the door burst open revealing a mass of SWAT with guns raised. Before they could grab him, Peter screamed, "WAIT!" To his bemusement, everyone froze. " I thought that only worked in movies," he mumbled to himself. "I have vital info on this computer."

After skeptical looks were exchanged, one agent stepped forward and rewound the video, then played. Peter didn't think this would help, but then the wheels started to turn in his brain. Neal's words were so elegantly chosen; his silver tongue had been giving clues all along.

"Wait, rewind and play… Can someone get me a laptop with a Federal search engine?" All the SWAT stared blankly. "Do I need to talk S-L-O-W-E-R?" Peter growled, frustration showing in his tone.

"Move it, morons," came the ever-so-polite Agent Rice's voice from the back of the crowd. She shoved rudely through the SWAT.

"What gives you the right—" said what appeared to be the lead SWAT agent.

"I don't have any right," snapped Rice, making the man flinch, "but I can make your life hell in so many ways that you will regret opening you mouth." The SWAT backed respectfully into the hall.

Before Peter could thank her, she turned to him. "You've dug a hole you may not be able to get out of, Burke, but if you're determined, I'll help you di;, deeper down or farther up I don't know ,but I have a laptop so tell me what you need."

Peter did not even bother thanking her; amends and thanks could wait. For now, work mattered. "I need you to find Robins Road Long Island." She type that in.

"Got it, lot of area to cover still."

"Look for a lighthouse."

"Found it, lot of places where you can see it."

"Try large houses with white color."

"In that area…five."

"How many with brick steps?"

"One to a elderly woman, and the other to a Steve Radon, recently purchased."

"Where is Steve Radon?"

Rice ignored him and whipped out her radio. "1254 Robins Rd. Long Island NY, all agents respond. Wounded may be inside. Subject is armed and dangerous; use extreme caution."

Peter found himself swept away by Rice into the hallway, running for the car, knowing that they were too late. This rescue was now revenge.

**oh I'm so evil! I left a terible clif hanger! but wait wait! before you get you pitchforks and find were I live ( Esparanza labranth, aka other Emma, don't you dare tell them:)...) remember its not a death fic... huh? do I have you confused now? well just wait mohaha! God if my therapist was reading this... Sorry Erin! I'm not to insane I promise! **

**tune in next time hopfully it will be up within the next two weeks! and review its like a kick in the ass to work! LOVE U ALL! Your the best ever! LOVE, EMMA!**


	9. Evil Plots and Escape Plans

**Hey everyone! I would love to give shout outs to Pechika for reviewing! A special super shout out to Eliza Ghost for helping me on the chapter! And of course Morgo7kc for her beta services! Come on! just copy and paste one of there names into the search engine! They are great!**

"Are we dead?" It was the first thing Neal was aware of anyone saying; as his head cleared a little, he recognized the voice as one he was glad to hear.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" came a sarcastic female voice, the other voice he was hoping for.

"Well if we are, this isn't exactly what I thought heaven would feel like," groaned Neal, chipping into the conversation while trying to find the energy to open his eyes. He felt a concrete floor beneath him and smelled a damp, moldy smell.

"Maybe its hell," added Jones with a grunt of pain and the sound of him trying to sit up.

"I can see Neal in hell but I think I've done my good in this world," Diana quipped, but her voice seemed to have lost its usual sharp, sarcastic tone, replaced by a faint, dull, and worrisome voice.

Neal had had enough of this lying down and promptly drew the small amount of energy he had to open his eyes and hoist himself up. The second he did, black spots enveloped his vision causing him to collapse against the wall behind him in agony.

As his vision came back he found himself sitting in the same room where the camera had been set up. He also saw Diana perched up on one elbow groggily straining against the zip ties that still restrained her wrists.

"I thought we were shot," Diana muttered, giving up on the zip ties.

"I know, it is lik…" Neal's heart dropped to his stomach as he realized the true genius that this man held.

"What?" Jones asked.

"He faked our deaths… now nobody's looking; he took out our last hope."

"And our situation just got worse," Diana broke the silence with a shaky voice.

Neal looked over to see tears slipping from her eyes. He scootched his body toward her to try to figure out what was wrong, and this was the worst idea of his life. All the pain hit him at once, and he felt his body betraying him. His senses came back in full. It was only then that he became aware of the sweat dripping off him and the chills running the length of his body. He collapsed on the ground just centimeters short of Diana.

Everyone just lay there in silence for what seemed an eternity; the silence was almost more excruciating than the waves of pain that coursed through his body.

Jones was the one to break the terrible silence. "What's wrong, Diana?"

Diana stopped her tears. "I…I can't feel my legs. I can't feel anything, nothing at all."

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Sean was rather pleased with his little trick of replacing the bullets with tranquilizer darts. He had out done himself this time! If only he had someone to share this with. Maybe when he was taking the agents' bodies to some ditch, he would buy a diary. The police scanner next to him buzzing to life interrupted this train of thoughts.

*HCCCKKKK* "1254 Robins Road Long Island NY, all agents respond. Wounded may be inside. Subject is armed and dangerous; use extreme caution." *HCCCKKKK*

The radio went dead again. Sean jumped from his seat, sprinting to the basement. He was really sick of these agents being so clever and making his life harder. He was also sick of changing safe houses, but he would never get sick of making them suffer, and that is what he now intended to do.

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"Its probably spinal damage; when Peter finds us, the hospital will make your legs good as new," Jones soothed Diana.

"IF he finds us alive," Diana said bluntly.

"He will. I helped him out," said Neal, finally being able to open his mouth without screaming for he was feeling a little less pain.

"I still don't get-"

Jones was cut short by the door of the basement room being violently thrown open. Sean marched in. His eyes had madness shining through and he looked mad; mad enough to kill.

Sean sprung forward and with no warning, grabbed Neal by his bloody hospital gown, and threw him like a rag doll against the wall.

Neal let out a loud yelp as he felt yet another rib crack against the wall, moving and displacing all the ones that had already been set.

"You can't help but get your ass in trouble can you, Caffrey?" Sean held Neal by the collar, pulling him half-way off the ground. "You told him where we were and now we have to move. GET UP."

Neal was dropped to the ground; he immediately stumbled to his feet. "Diana… She, she can't." Neal was finding it hard to get his words. He was sweating and was amazed his condition wasn't worse.

"She suffered spinal damage and she can't move her legs." Jones came to Neal's rescue.

"Fine," Sean said bluntly. He reached behind the door and grabbed Jones's crutches he had apparently saved from the hospital, flung them at Jones who ducked as they narrowly missed his head, then marched over and cut Jones's zip ties and zip-tied him to the crunches. "Now…GET UP."

"But," Jones managed to protest.

"I'm getting to her!" Sean hissed. He was in a no-nonsense mood.

He reached down and scooped up Diana roughly in his arms. She let out a yell of surprise and pain. "Put me down, you bastard!" she screamed.

"I don't see anyone else in any condition to carry you, honey," Sean growled. "Now get up and walk, and if you try anything I will not hesitate to drop her on her head, grab my gun, and SHOOT YOU."

Jones grabbed his crunches and stood; as soon as he was up, he let Neal lean on him for support and they limped together up the stairs with Diana and Sean in close pursuit.

As soon as they got to the garage, Sean put Diana down. "Now stay put and I'll be back after I gather some stuff. Try anything, it won't work and you will regret it." Sean left without another word.

"He really thinks we won't try anything?" Jones asked, trying to work on his zip ties.

"No, he knows we won't be able to get the door open with our hands tied and that we won't leave Diana," Neal answered logically.

"I think he is itching for a chance to shoot us," Diana muttered.

"Then I've got one for him," Neal grinned. He produced a small knife from his hand. "I took it off Sean when he slammed me into the wall." He offered it to Jones.

"What, why me?" Jones asked.

"Because you're the only mobile one, and he really wants me," Neal answered. "Now, our window is closing fast. Go."

Jones only took a minute to cut the ties, and then he stumbled to his feet, grabbing his crutches and heading for the door, unlocking it. "You guys coming?" he asked.

Neal heart sunk as he realized Clinton Jones had no idea what was being done. "Jones, you have to go. We can't leave Diana."

"Then you can go! You're in worse condition! I'll stay!" Jones was near tears.

"I know, buddy, but Sean's coming back and you can run fast with the crutches," Neal choked, not being able to stand the torn look on the agents face. "It is our best hope and if we never see you again, get over that stupid fear of birds, will you?"

"We love you, Clinton," added Diana. "Never forget us."

Jones took a deep breath, leveling his emotions "I won't forget you. I'll see you soon." Jones smiled weakly before he closed the door.

"Did we make the right call?" asked Diana.

"I really wish I knew."

That second Sean came in. He froze in his tracks. Anger flared in his eyes. "I'm missing a prisoner…I told you that you would regret anything you tried. I will-" he was cut off by police sirens.

"Shit," he muttered. Roughly he grabbed Neal, shoving him into his car first, and then throwing Diana into the back seat. He got in the front of the car and for the first time that day, laughed.

"You think you were clever, but I'll kill you, then Burke, and the guilt will eat your little friend alive until he can't deal with it anymore. Nobody is getting out alive."

Neal sat there on the floor of the backseat, half propped up against the door, letting the words sink in. Diana did the same as she sunk closer into him, her head on his chest. He stroked her hair calmingly, even though he new neither one of them was calm.

Neal did not know exactly when he fell asleep. It was sometime after the police sirens faded away, after the sound of the highway took over, and long after Diana's breathing had steadied to a peaceful rasp in his lap. All he really knew before he went into the blissful peace was thinking, "Oh god, what have I done?

**Personally this was my favorite chapter to type! Now give me two weeks to update I have a huge school project! LOVE U ALL! and reviews mean the world! Emma**


	10. being lost,stalkholm syndrome,and rules

**Hi everyone! It has been so long! For the record I had this done two weeks ago but had a beta reader snag! Thanks to all that reviewed! And to Eliza Ghost who is the best person ever for so many conversations, feedback, and filling in for Beta while Morgo7kc is MIA. Thank you and enjoy this is my favorite chapter by far!**

Jones pressed his body as close to the side of the house as his crutches allowed him, he could hear the sound of Sean screaming at what he presumed was his absence, and he could also hear the sound of sirens. He made a silent prayer that the police would intercept Sean in time. With great difficulty mentally and, let's face it, physically, Jones pried himself away from the siding that plastered the house. He backed away silently and with as much stealth as possible (which was not much at the current moment) slipped behind a thicket of trees that lead to the woods. Then he began to use his crutches to hobble farther in until he couldn't see the house anymore.

"We love you, Clinton, never forget us."

"I won't forget you. I'll see you soon."

Jones Blinked hard, desperately trying to wash this memory from his mind. He had run the moment over and over in his head for the last hour. Well, it could have been a hour, it could have been three, he had no idea how long he had been walking but the sun was starting to go down.

He hurt all over and was trying to ignore what he thought was the most pain he had been in in his life. He leaned on his crutches hard , he had stopped feeling much in his feet a while ago and this numb felling was creeping up the rest of his body. His breath was now coming in heavy labored gasps, plus he could swear his life was starting to flash before his eyes as fragmented memories bombarded his mind. He was sure he was slowly dying yet oddly this prospect didn't bother him too much. As he wiped the thin layer of sweat that had accumulated on his forehead, Jones realized it had been five whole days since this whole ordeal had started.

"Five days, five days ago I had never had a near death experience and now I'm at about eight and counting." Jones said out loud to the air.

Suddenly he felt a burning pain in his stomach; he dropped his crutches and leaned against the nearest tree. The pain was growing until he felt a convulsing felling in his throat and the bile came up. Jones coughed and leaned against the nearest tree slumping to the ground against it; he reached up his hand to wipe away the bile on his face but was stopped by a metallic taste. He slowly wiped his hand across his face only to see ruby blood coating his fingers.

"Fuck," It was as simple as that, just fuck, it was the only thought he had as he pieced the puzzle together in his mind.

The poison, he had never finished getting treated for the nightshade poison, it was almost irony he was going to die from something as sad as this. He felt his mind fading in and out and a warm comforting feeling come over him, he was only partially aware of the search lights shining, and the dogs barking, but there was one part he remembered as clear as day, it was a sound and a feeling nothing else;

"Hey buddy," the sound was in his ear, at the same moment he felt a pair of hands gingerly slip behind his back and under his knees making the pain come in waves, but he had too little strength to complain.

"It's going to be ok, you're safe now, nothing can hurt you Jones, everything is OK, just stay with us Clinton, please just stay, please." The voice was soft and he felt himself being picked up before all his senses went numb and he went into the waiting oblivion. His last though was the voice was wrong, nothing was OK and nothing was going to be ok again, not for a long time.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

"Ok! We have one minute to our destination! Everyone keep sharp and don't mess up!" Peter snapped to the van full of at least ten agents squashed together, making him remember the day he had caught Neal when Neal had asked how they all fit into the van, and honestly he had no idea.

His gun was loaded and the safety was off, his vest was secure, and he had an army of agents with him but he couldn't help but feel vulnerable going into this. Rice had left to oversee making secure checkpoints around the island.

His mind flashed back to what the doctor had told him before he left, "remember if they are alive, they are in bad condition and from what you've told me gunshot wounds may be in play, and agent Jones and Barrigan are still suffering from poison in there system. I have given the medic teams a couple vials of antidote to keep them stable, but here is one for you too." The doctor handed him a small syringe that peter tucked in his pocket. "They will be scared but you need to keep them calm, I presume you had that training in the FBI?"

"It is basic training." Peter replied in a no nonsense tone as he fastened his vest.

"I just want you to get that man who killed our doctor to be caught."

"Oh trust me, I will take him down."

Peter was snapped back to his senses by the van screeching to a halt, "GO!" the yell sounded through the cabin as the doors were thrown open and all the agents jumped out heading for the house, Peter got in front of them and placed himself at the front door.

"One " Peter felt his heart pounding, "two " his head was spinning sweat dripped, "THREE!"

With one kick Peter brought the door down and stormed the house, he ran around the corner and spied the basement door. He knew immediately that is where they would be, his stomach turned as he threw the door open but what he saw was much worse than he was prepared for.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Diana felt like her body was floating; the pain wasn't strong except for a small pinch that she kept feeling in her shoulder. She tried to move but a hand grabbed her shoulder, sending pain through it. Her eyes shot open and a gasp escaped her lips as she found another face with a lopsided smile on it staring down at her.

"Keep moving and you're going to make me slip." He said waving a needle with thread attached to it. He then turned back to her shoulder were he applied one more stitch before tying it off. "There!" He said with a satisfied look on his face. "Now that you're awake, you can help me."

"How the hell should I do that?" Diana hissed half out of anger, half out of pain.

"Well glad you asked! Now open up." He held up a bottle of what looked to be a concoction of medicines and a spoon.

"I don't think so." Said Diana.

"I will force feed you and you know it," Sean snapped at her.

"Try," she growled

Sean sighed in a annoyed tone that sounded like he was talking to a stubborn child said, " Look it's not poison it's just some antibiotics, poison antidote, and painkillers mixed, look I'll drink it." He then took a small sip before putting the bottle down and cocking his head into a sweet smile.

Diana just glared.

"Fine, could you just turn onto your side so I can clean out the cuts on your back?"

Diana obliged stubbornly turning to one side before she realized a disturbing fact.

"Sean?" She asked.

"Yes," the sing song reply came "Did you miss me already?"

"Hardly, I just wanted to know where my shirt is, or even where my pants went?" Diana questioned feeling vulnerable in her bra and underwear.

"Too much blood. I threw them away." Sean answered her in a matter of fact tone.

"Why were you touching me in the first place?"

"Relax, I'm not a pervert I just needed to try to fix your spine again, I used a needle and ultrasound. With the ultrasound I found the fluid block and to remove fluid that presses on the spinal cord, I used a scalpel and needle to suck it out and presto. You should be mobile again with a little time."

"And you preformed amateur surgery how?" She asked in shock, immediately feeling aware of the row of stitches up her back, and the grateful sensation of wiggling her toes.

"Well, I was taken in by a mob doctor for a while as a child and assisted him and as a total sociopath, I'm paranoid enough to have enough medical supplies to equip a small hospital." Sean replied casually as if everyone should have this training.

"You are by far the oddest person I've ever meet," Diana quipped sourly.

Sean applied a bandage to the stitches ignoring her comment, Diana suddenly realized that she was in what seemed to be a cabin, there were hospital grade medical supplies strung over the small bedroom.

"Time to try to get up," Sean cooed in a mocking tone, before Diana could tell him to "go to hell." He sat her up and pulled out a black tee-shirt and a pair of combat pants out of a bag sitting at the foot of the bed. He then held the pants up, offering her to put her legs in.

"Hope they fit, I didn't know your size," Sean said as Diana gratefully, and with a little help, got her pants on then the shirt.

"Shoes?" She questioned.

"Please, we have both seen enough cop movies to know I'm not giving you shoes."

"Fine, but do you at least have socks?"

Sean smiled as he pulled a pair out of his bag.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

"Head hurts... Body hurts in some cabin... leg chained to table." Neal's thoughts came in short fragmented bits as his beaten body tried to shut out his pain.

It had been a two hours at least from when he had woken up with Sean giving him a blood transfusion and in nothing but his boxers. Now he was dressed in a black tee and jeans, and Sean had dragged him out here to chain him to the table then go to see what he assumed was Diana.

The cabin layout wasn't hard, there was a main room with a kitchen and living room area and one of the four walls had three bedrooms. The door on the far left lead to Neal's room, the middle was most likely Sean's, and the right Diana's. Other than that there was a front door and a bathroom. Simple, and most likely too far away from civilization.

His thoughts were interrupted by Sean coming out of the door to Diana's room with Diana limping in tow.

"Walking?" he asked in a befuddled way.

"Amateur surgery," Diana grimaced as Sean sat her next to Neal chaining her leg on another tether.

"Yeah, yeah, less chit chat, now who wants breakfast?" Sean asked, placing two plates of eggs in front of them. Sean then sat down at the table across from them and ravenously dug in, "Kidnapping builds up quite an appetite you know."

Diana shrugged and started to eat hers, Neal was about to make a mean remark but was stopped by a hard glare from Diana.

Neal realized the last time he ate was at least two days ago and dug in too.

When they were done Sean began to speak.

"I don't know where to start " Sean mused.

"The beginning would be lovely," said Neal and his perfect sarcastic way.

"I'll just start with honesty, thank you very much. I still have plans. I will get to your FBI building and put a hole in your precious government in New York, but I need to let the dust settle though so we're here for the next couple weeks, then in the turmoil I will rule the streets and you, Neal, will help me."

"How?" Neal asked in shock.

"You will find out soon enough."

"And if I don't want to?"

"Then our lovely Diana will pay." He walked behind Diana putting his hands on her shoulders and squeezed. To Neal's surprise Diana didn't flinch or try to back away.

"Now in the meantime house rules," Sean plopped a piece of paper in front of them with rules.

Neal and Diana peered at the list:

**1. If behavior is good I will take requests for meals, you get three square meals a day and two snacks.**

**2. Shackles reach all the way around the main room, feel free to wander.**

**3. If behavior is good, I will provide card and board games and a small TV.**

**4. Two bathroom breaks a day and one shower every other.**

**5. Sleeping quarters are to be kept to all night. I will lock the doors and windows are bared.**

**6. Trying to escape will get you hurt.**

**7. Try to stay relaxed while were here stress won't get you anywhere, and remember, we are miles from anything, so running will only get you shot! Have a nice stay, Sean**

"What's with the sudden hospitality?" asked Neal skeptically.

"I now need you healthy because the FBI has all my contacts pinged by now, and you two are the only ones capable of helping me that can. Now, Miss, would Diana take her medicine?" He tried again.

Diana smiled and took it with no problem, "Thank you" she said.

"You're welcome," Sean answered with a satisfied grin before going to his room.

"What the HELL? Its like you have stalk hold syndrome."

Diana's smile grew.

" Wha- Ohhh " Neal smiled too as he realized her devious plan, "so this is reverse stalk hold syndrome, you make him attached to us?"

"Best option we have," Diana winked before grabbing the bag full of games and dumping it on the counter, "Uno or poker?"

Neal felt like his pain was gone from his body; he smiled wide, "I can con anyone at Uno any day."

"You are so on, Mister Cocky!" Diana laughed.

They dragged their shackles to the couch and played rounds of vicious Uno, won by Diana 4 to 3. It was filled with a feeling not felt lately, fun, and before Neal knew it Diana was asleep on his shoulder. Neal closed his eyes and let his mind drift.

It was magic, nothing was good at the moment, but everything was Ok for now and Ok was what they needed. Ok was what they got but Ok couldn't last forever.

**There, a little sprits of fluff at the end! Hope you liked it and as I said writing should be on track! Please review seriously I love those, I'm like a child on Christmas morning soaking them up over and over, combine with a stalker that reads all your stories and profile and I'm going to stop before I scare you away! Emma**


	11. Finding people and plans

**SOME IMPORTANT INFO IN HERE! Hello everyone! to address a first issue, Yes my stupid computer some how turned Stockholm into Stalkhome... how does that happen? I will fix it, actually I'm going to be doing some spring cleaning were I go back and replace chapters with better grammar edited ones. So when you see a alert for a replaced chapter ignore it! Well this is personally my favorite chapter the action really picks up and in the next chapter the Whump comes back full swing! So go on and read away!**

**Anyway thank you for Eliza Ghost for being a amazing beta! Morgo7kc were are you? I am currently writing a WC story with Eliza and it is about what we think is going to happen in the promo ( or what we wish happens) Whump of course!**

"I'm going to puke, and I don't care who sees me. And I'm not cleaning it up, either." Peter thought as ERT went through the house inside, Peter sat on the back steps, his head between his knees. Why had he found that? It was too much to handle. Most people would love this, finding a room you saw on tape pristine all blood washed away.

"Sir, we we we, need you to leave us us to our work, you are askkkked to st-step down from the case…" stuttered one of the ERT guys, earnestly eyeing peters gun. He looked up at the poor man who had obviously drawn the short straw. Peter stood up purposely brushing his hand over his unloaded gun ( He had taken the clip out earlier to prevent exactly what this man was thinking.) on the way, making the man flinch.

"I am not leaving this case. I won't even protest this isn't personal because it is. That is what makes me the best for this case is I'm the only one here that actually gives a damn!" Peter was almost screaming now, venom and authority dripping from his voice, "And you can tell that to whoever told you to take me off, but I won't let them get their wish!" Peter yelled.

The ERT man did not take this well and out of fear and intimidation; he shoved Peter back knocking him over the railing of the back steps to fall a good meter down into the brush. Peter heard all the ERT agents freaking out and his agents yelling at the man trying to defend and protect him. Peter tried to stand but stopped when he felt his hand in a wet substance, he looked at his hand to see it had landed in a small pool of blood.

"HEY I GOT SOMETHING!" he yelled

About five agents ran to him and hastily started to take samples, Peter followed the blood trail. "It goes into the woods! Send teams and search dogs!"

()()()()()()()()

"Checkmate," Said Neal.

"Wipe that smile off your face before I do it for you." Diana muttered in deep thought not even bothering to look up.

"You said that to me… It _has_ been a week right? Well, that's what you said to me the morning in the van."

"The morning before I had a cast and one hundred thirty seven stiches, plus a lot more," Diana said moving her rook.

"At least you weren't shot trying to save your sorry ass," Neal teased.

"At least you didn't almost drown saving Jones's ass." Diana retorted.

As usual the conversation ceased at Jones. They never knew what happened for all they knew he died from his injuries before getting help.

"He is OK, I know it." Diana whispered trying to let her emotions hide.

"Well, we can always watch for him on TV." Neal said turning it on to the news.

The TV was doing the alert again, "we have no update of the FBI agents re-kidnapped from the hospital and the police would like tips if you have seen these agents," as usual Neal's description and picture popped up first thankfully leaving the criminal part out, then Diana's, and then nothing, "The man we are looking for is named Sean Ryker and has a two million bounty on his head, he is highly dangerous and you are advised to stay away. Now these agents were kidnapped twice? That is a heavy one, your opinion Jim?"

Neal turned the channel quickly to the history channel as the door opened and Sean entered with groceries in tow. He opened them and threw the contents at the two, "Lucky charms for the lady, and pop tarts for Neal."

"No coffee?" Neal grumbled.

"I'm feeding you, don't complain."

Diana was too busy picking the marshmallows out of the lucky charms to notice anything was going on.

"Diana!" Neal whispered.

"Yes," she hissed through a mouth full of cereal.

"They didn't show Jones, they found him!"

"But dead or alive is the question."

They sat in silence as Sean sat down to read the newspaper, singing an eerie children's song beneath his breath as Diana ate her marshmallows. Neal sighed and opened his pop tarts taking a bite, knowing he couldn't just sit here and let this happen to them. He would do something and if it came to it die trying. A plan was to be made and he knew just what to do.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Now it had been hours, little wet drops of rain had started to fall, the sun was setting, and the temperature was dropping dangerously low. It was just that weather that you see on TV when they have someone lost in the woods. Peter had on a rain coat and a backpack with supplies as he lead one of the teams of searchers.

He stepped over another fallen tree to continue into the woods, darkness was now setting in and flashlights were now being pulled out, hope was being lost, even the search dogs had lost any trail long ago.

Peter had gone a little farther ahead of the group as they took a five minuet brake; Peter of course had taken no brakes so far. As he took another step he slipped into a partially dry sticky mass on the ground. Peter groaned not even wanting to get up but stay there forever, he was losing hope fast. He shined his flash light at the ground noticing that the mass had a gloss to it. It was blood he realized for about the hundredth time this week, and again there was a lot of it.

Peter shined his flash light around, his heart pumped in his ears, everything seemed to slow down, he turned once more and there against a tree was a figure, it was too dark to see who but they were slumped over against a tree. Peter ran up and dropped to his knees letting the water on the ground soak his pants.

He gingerly turned the body over taking an intake of breath as he shined the flash light in the man's face. Now everything seemed to speed up into a painful acuteness that filled his body. Jones, it was Jones; his dark skin and now not so bright, dirt covered orange leg cast were unmistakable.

Dirt and injures almost covered his body and he shivered violently giving Peter the thankful sign of life. He looked like he had been dragged to hell and back, then to hell again just to make sure he was thoroughly in the worst shape possible.

Peter took the syringe filled with a dose of antidote out of his pocket and stabbed it into Jones's upper arm, Jones himself didn't even stir. Peter called out, "I have some one! I need medical ASAP!"

As the EMT's that had ventured into the woods with him can running up behind him with a portable stretcher they put down. They reached for Jones but Peter put out a hand knowing from Jones's previous reactions that having the EMT's pick him up was not the best idea.

"Hey buddy," said Peter turning back to Jones, trying to be calming and comforting as he slipped one hand under his legs and one under the limp man's back." He lifted him and placed him as delicately as possible on the stretcher (Witch was not very graceful for Jones almost weighed as much as Peter but It would have to do).

The EMT's who had called in an air evac. Started to the nearest opening for the helicopter to land. Peter Just took Jones's hand and continued to try to make sure that he wasn't scared, it was the least he could do, "It's going to be ok, your safe now, nothing can hurt you Jones, everything is ok, just stay with us Clinton, please just stay, please."

()()()()()()()()()

"Diana, Diana, Diana, DIANA!" The little annoying whisper was in her ear.

"Gahhhh," she moaned and pulled her pillow over her head.

"Diana, are you awake?" There it was again and it was going to get punched if it didn't shut up.

"NO." She whispered back.

"Well wake up now!" The sheets were ripped from her and the pillow dragged off her head. She looked up with a glare of anger then confusion as she saw Neal standing above her.

"If he finds you out of your room, he will hurt you!" Diana hissed.

"I know, but this couldn't wait," Neal pulled a crumpled piece of newspaper out of his pocket of his jeans...wait, why was he wearing jeans in the middle of the night? She didn't know but really was too interested in what on earth Neal was holding.

"Look," he whispered taking seat on the edge of her bed.

The Title of the article read, "Missing FBI agent found, two still missing, the kidnapper still at large."

"Peter found him!" Diana exclaimed.

"I know, that's why I'm here, that and I figured out what Sean wants us for!"

"Wait slow down and start at the beginning!"

"Ok, ok… So it all started an hour ago. I think it was 1 am…"

()()()()()()()()()()()()

Neal lay in bed unable to sleep in his tiny room; he glanced at the tightly sealed walls and bared windows. It was definitely like a prison.

Sean had shoved them in their rooms about an hour ago, and Neal could hear the young man's steady breathing through the wall.

"How could a monster like that do human things that made him seem so normal? How could a monster be that young?" Neal shivered at the thought.

It didn't matter now what Sean was doing as long as it was sleeping. Neal listened for one more minuet before slipping out of bed.

He imagined he was an odd sight fully dressed in the middle of the night, with the lack of sneakers of courses. He had only a flashlight, it wasn't much but it had to do.

He turned on the flashlight letting it softly illuminate the room; Neal turned to the small mirror in his room and took a deep breath while getting his composure together. His minor cuts and bruises had healed due to the lack of abuse he was getting lately, his shoulder still burned and the stiches on his stomach were still there but he wasn't in bad shape over all.

Neal silently slipped two paper clips out of his pockets, placing the flashlight between his teeth as he started on the lock. "Left, right, up, left, bend back, feel the pins, right, and… done!" Neal silently opened the latch on the door thankful that it slid open with ease.

He tiptoed into the main room and looked around for the newspaper Sean was reading, and quickly flipped through until he got to the page he wanted and with a leap in his heart as he read he removed the section. Then he began to move toward Diana's room when he tripped face first.

He lay there for a minuet making sure the sound didn't wake anyone before realizing he was in one part of the room his shackle didn't reach. He felt the ground and found a hinge, were there was a hinge a door exists. Neal felt around more until BINGO! A latch, he put the flashlight back in his teeth before opening it and crawling in.

The hole was large enough to be bigger than the house, and inside was what Neal feared. He saw the blueprints he feared and the around that parts of a bomb that needed assembly.

He now understood what Sean's genius plan was, he was waiting for Stockholm syndrome to set in before using Neal, using Neal to build the bomb and he knew Diana fit in there somewhere but he would have to figure out her role later. Neal searched the place for a good half an hour after that but had no luck.

Neal climbed the stairs again and went to break into Diana's room.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()

"So that's what happened!" Neal exclaimed his excitement was barely containable his voice was straining above a whisper.

"We were playing right into his trap," Diana added thoughtfully, She was now sitting up her legs crossed, thinking intently.

"Diana you have to get out of here and find Peter, he needs you for something, but I don't know what. Diana, you should run now!"

"Unfortunately nobody will be going anywhere." The cool voice drifted across the room freezing the two in terror. Neal scrambled back falling of his perch on the edge of the bed. Diana flung her body out of bed to stand in front of Neal who had fallen on his ass and was sitting in shock.

"Sit," Sean commanded his voice like shards of glass.

Diana didn't budge; Neal was in so much shock he didn't even attempt to stand again.

"NOW," Sean hissed marching forward.

"What are you going to do?" Diana asked trying to keep the image of Stockholm syndrome that they had been working so hard at keeping up.

Sean walked forward and grabbed Diana's wrist. Neal could see that she was fighting the urge to beat the living crap out of him, but she kept her composure and sat.

Sean looked at her for a second before taking a pair of handcuffs that were in his jeans pocket and attaching her wrists around the bed post.

"What?" Diana asked anger somewhat flaring in her voice.

Sean ignored her before taking some duct tape, and before she could react, stuck it over her mouth. Then he went over to were Neal sat. He grabbed Neal's shirt and dragged him off the ground. He smiled before drawing back his fist and making solid contact with Neal's head.

Neal went reeling, he heard Diana's composure slip as she began to scream at Sean, but the words were muffled by duct tape and far away. He felt himself being pulled out the door and into Sean's room. He was thrown onto a chair and was helpless as his hands and feet were zip tied in place and the bedroom door was slammed shut, closing out all sounds of Diana's hopeless attempts to free herself.

Sean sat down on the bed across from Neal. Neal had a look of fear on his face and was starting to sweat, Sean just smiled and pulled out a long knife from the table beside him. He held the knife up and began to twirl it in his hands.

"So, Neal," Sean said concentrating his deadly green eyes on the knife that spun in his fingers, "I think we need to talk."

**OHHH! hope you liked it I know I'm torturing you with this cliff hanger! on another note there is a poll on my page about what I should write next would love some feedback! as always happy holidays and am I the only one stopping counting down the days to Hanukkah/ Christmas/ new years and am waiting for White Collar instead? THe new White Collar comercial is amazing here is a link! LOVE YOU ALL! Emma**

► 0:30► 0:30

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	12. Let's have a chat

**OK first I am so sorry for not updating! I blame my laptop, I had this whole long chapter then it crashed so I sent it in and they took three freaken weeks to send it back. Come to find out thhat they wiped the hard drive and this is one of the few things I didn't back up. So I wrote this shorter one scence I can't remember much from the other! I WILL UPDATE SOON! enjoy!**

"Agent Burke, agent, can someone get him to wake up?" Peter kept his eyes shut trying to convince himself that this whole ordeal he had been through was just a sick dream.

"Hon, wake up," He felt his shoulder being shook; he opened his eyes painfully slow. There sat Elizabeth in front of him. Her face had a sympathetic worried look on it. Peter unstuck his neck from the awkward position he had been sleeping in in the hospital chair.

"Agent Burke," Peter looked to the nurse in front of him. "You can see your agent now, I will warn you that he is very weak, his state before was fragile and he broke it. Many of his wounds are infected, and the internal damage is extensive. We tried to patch him up the best we could, but his body need a lot of rest , he is in a delicate place right now. Over exerting could cause him to lose his voice, movement in his legs and arms, or even his life."

"Is he conscious?" Peter asked, standing from the chair.

"Yes, and I will let you see him but be aware that his physiological state is also very weak. He has been through severe trauma and if he gets scared or you upset him for any reason, you will be removed, no questions asked." She said.

"Understood," Peter nodded and gave smile to El before moving after the nurse to Jones's room.

As they walked in to room 307, he saw Jones's was hooked up to the same set up as before, the only difference was his eyes were open and staring around the room warily.

"Jones!" Peter couldn't help himself, he was so happy to have Jones alive. He then took a seat besides Jones's bed.

Jones looked up at Peter opening his mouth as if to say something but no sound came out. "Is he in shock still?" Peter asked the nurse as she left the room.

"No, his vocal cords have swelled badly, he will not be able to talk for a few days until the inflammation comes down." She answered curtly smiling sympathetically at Jones as she left the room, but before she left. she added "he's tired, so no taking statements. He won't have enough energy to write more than a paragraph. Just make it NO writing, period."

"OK, no writing…" Peter mused pulling out a pen and paper, "Feel up to drawing?" Jones nodded eagerly hosting himself up with immense effort and pain, before he took the pen shakily from Peter and began to draw.

()()()()()()()()()

"Breath in, and out, in, out, deep in, let it out," Neal felt the cold sweat breaking on his forehead. He desperately wanted to be able to move his hand and wipe it off.

Sean sat in front of Neal, the knife had been twirling in and out of his fingers for what seemed like an eternity yet it had only been a minute. Sean let the sharp blade slide across his fingers as he spun, leaving no trace as his expert skill didn't allow any pressure for the knife to cut into his soft flesh. Then Sean suddenly stopped, grabbing the end and letting the blade sink into his hand. Smirking with a small chuckle, and a soft gasp of what seemed to be pleasure from the pain. He seemed to enjoy it as blood began to flow onto the floor leaving his left hand soaked in the crimson fluid.

"Neal," Sean said standing and circling to his back, placing his bloody hands on Neal's shoulders leaving hand prints on Neal's all to white tee-shirt. Sean squeezed his hands, causing pain to rip through him. Neal stiffed the scream, focusing on the anything but the pain.

"Yes?" Neal grimaced

"What, I wonder, have you been doing out at this time of night?"

"Couldn't sleep, wanted to know if you could get me some warm milk." Neal growled trying to stop the tears that were starting to cloud his vision down.

"Oh Neal, always the comedian! Problem is I am not in the mood for comedy." Sean hissed taking the knife and pushing the tip into the base of Neal's throat letting a trickle of blood drip free.

"I just wanted to know something, that's all, won't happen again." Neal said letting the words slowly leave his lips in his most charming manner.

"Neal, I know what you were doing already, but let's play a game. I tell you my part you tell me yours."

"Well, please let me offer for you to go first." Neal quipped.

"Very well," Sean began, "The first time I saw you was a year before you were caught. You fascinated me from the second I lay eyes on you Neal! You were my criminal idol, until you went to the side of the angels."

"I wouldn't call myself an angel."

"Do not interrupt. Anyway, when you went with the FBI I had the idea of the bomb for a while then. But this got me closer to a reality! Could I blow up the building and frame Caffery? Could I just use him as an in? I did lots of research and realized that the FBI now had something I could exploit. "

"Bad fashion statement? No, the vans! Crappy Coffee? I got it, deviled ham!"

"One more interruption and I will punch you! You, Neal, you-they _care_ for you. So what an idea! Kidnap you and some friends for good measure, put a ransom to pay for bomb parts, and send the FBI on a wild goose chase! All to distract from my true intentions!"

"To take over the world? Because that is very movie cliché, I wou-" Neal instantly regretted the words as they came out of his mouth for at that second, a fist came in solid contact with his abdomen doubling him over in pain, gasping for air.

"I told you not to interrupt," Sean sang while shaking out his fist. "As I was saying, why not kidnap you? I can use you while I am at it."

"What do you mean by that?" Neal stammered, his blood running cold.

"Relax, nothing bad. Just you're going to be my little helper," Sean drew close to Neal moving his body centimeters from Neal's in a immanently close proximity that made Neal's skin crawl. No matter how much Neal squirmed he couldn't move away.

"What do you want me to do?" Neal said felling Sean's bod heat emanating from him as he leaned in, the knife tracing Neal's back."

"You, my dear, are going to make me the bomb that will kill your friends." He whispered in Neal's ear.

"And if I don't?" Neal asked the calm in his voice gone.

"Then Diana, Mozzie, Peter, Alex, El, and everyone else you could ever care for will die, it is a chech 22 my friend, the end is near." Sean hissed the last part and at that moment pain erupted in Neal's back, the last thing he heard was the chuckle of Sean and a scream from Diana before the oh so familiar darkness overcame him.

**I am ****such a cliff hanger! Hope you loved it! Eliza you are a saint for helping me with my god awful grammar and spelling! I blame dyslexia and a lack of spacial reasoning! Please review as always! reviews are the peanut butter to my jelly!**


	13. The beginning of the end

**HI EMMA HERE. So I am sorry for this like 9 month hiatus. I got really sick mentally. Well it was a combination of that and some other things going on in my life. I am sorry. Anyway i think for anyone not remembering they deserve an explanation of what is happening. Basically this bad guy Sean kidnapped Neal, Diana, and Jones, they escaped but Diana and Neal were captured again. This chapter is short and unbetaed. I AM SO SORRY ELIZA SWEETIE. I AM HERE AND I AM GOING TO TALK TO YOU NEXT!**

Neal woke with a start, he felt himself lying on a cold floor his chest against the cool tile. Wait? His chest? Ok so he was not wearing a shirt that was now obvious, his eyes opened slowly. There were a few things that registered within the next second, First, Diana was leaning over in front of him, second they were in the bathroom, and last his back was burning like it was on fire.

He felt something stinging touch his back and he hissed in response. "Neal, hold still! I know this hurts but I need to finish here." Diana snapped in her usual way witch was oddly a comfort to Neal.

Neal held still for another good ten minutes trying to keep from crying out. When Diana finally was done cleaning his back, he jerked to his face off the floor stumbling to his feet.

"Let me see," he pleaded with Diana.

"Neal, its not pretty…"

"Don't care, I have to see what he did." Diana turned him toward the mirror helping him sit on the counter before handing him another mirror to see the reflection.

On his back was a horrible sight, the blood had been cleaned away and the cuts cleaned too. Even without having seen the knife he could tell the blade was sharp and top of the line, and the hand that made the cuts did with precise and skilled precision. The words made him sick to see, "CONMAN" Neal couldn't see that, he turned to the sink promptly puking up his dinner from…. He didn't know how long ago.

The second he was done puking there was a knock at the door. "Diana? Is Neal OK in there? I'm coming in." Sean opened the door with a slightly worried look on his face, "I can't have him sick we start construction today. Isn't that right Neal? It's either that or….. Diana here ends up six feet under."

Neal stood to his full height looking Sean straight in the eyes. Sean stared back a small smirk piercing his lips. Neal squared his shoulders, painfully aware of the extra centimeters that Sean had on him.

"Let's get to work then," he growled.

()()()()()()()

Peter and Jones had worked fast developing a system to communicate. Jones was drawing, one tap of the pen meant "No", two was "Yes".

His hand shook as he drew a crude picture. First it was a stick figure, "Jones you need to be more specific than genderless-stick-person."

Jones glared and scribbled on a evil face with spiked hair, "Sean?" Peter asked. TAP, TAP. He was right.

"Sean what Jones?"

Jones drew a object that looked round with a stem.

"An apple?"

Jones gave him a "really?" Look.

"ummm bomb."

Tap Tap. Peter wanted to question more but Jones was falling asleep. The last thing he wrote before sleep set in was there letters.

FBI.

Peter's heart dropped, it was his worst fear.

**if I do not update in two weeks or less please come and kick my ass. R and R!**


	14. Bombs and apples

**this is short I know. I am struggling to update. I know I just have to get this done. A lot of things in my life have gone to hell and I am trying to pull it back in. I will finish this no matter what. I promise. I am going to try to do frequent short chapter updates now and just make myself push through. I predict two or three more chapters. Eliza come talk to me I miss you. **

It wasn't his fault, not this. But at the same time it was all his fault. Neal let his thoughts about this situation wonder as he cut the C4 off to place in precise blocks. Bombs, why had he even learned to build them? It wasn't like the explosion business was his thing. Was this even worth it? Sure it would save Diana and his life but in the process look at all the others that would die! Anyway what were the slim chances that Sean didn't shoot them both in the head and just make for the hills?

"Less thinking more 'boom boom'." Sean interrupted his thought process. Neal looked back at Sean. Sean was straddling a chair eating an apple. They were in the basement that Neal had found before. Sean grinned at Neal. He simultaneously played with Diana's shirt collar at the same time, for she sat next to him trying to shift away.

"You're not armed right now." Neal commented attaching two wires.

"Observant, but don't get ideas. This morning I replaces the lock with a nice one that needs my pass code and some of my DNA to get in. No way in your still pretty battered state you could force me to give you the code and also get my DNA. Also, I have a failsafe that floods this room if my heart stops beating. Really painful process had to put it in my chest myself…."

"Stop showing off and shut up." Diana quipped, finally pushing his hand away.

"You know," Sean quipped between bites of his apple, "Stockholm syndrome has not completely set in on you. Neal here, I got him by the throat." Sean chuckled.

Neal felt the red go up in his ears. He gritted and ignored. As Sean turned he took the moment to slip something he had made on the device. He had made two actually when Sean had left for a coffee run. He had created two transmitters one to the other. Hopefully he could save them.

Sean turned back as soon as he slipped the homemade device on. "Are you done?"

"All done." Neal nodded.

"Good." Sean picked up the twenty pound bomb with one hand. "And are you sure that support will take down the whole building."

"Positive," Neal carefully took all the hate out of his voice. "So can I come with?" Okay this might just go well….

"Ummmmm no." Sean laughed, Neal's stomach dropped. He grabbed Diana and dragged her quickly up the stairs. "Insurance Neal! Got to keep alive! And if they kill me, remember that water trap? At least I know that my mentor is dead too!"

"No!" Diana and Neal screamed at the same time. But it was too late. Sean was gone with Diana and the bomb. Neal hit his tracker activator. Now he knew he was going to die. Neal sat down in the corner before picking up a glass shard he had broken earlier. "Peter I am so sorry."

**We are reaching a climax! thanks for reading I know i probably lost readers because I have not been updating and you are saying "da fuc is this?" but thank you. and thank you for the reviews too. :) Love Emma Eli**


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